Infinity
by Loveandcoffeeandsimplicities
Summary: Betty Cooper, inquisitive journalist, thought she knew everything about life, love, and loss. That was, until Jughead Jones showed her what it meant to be truly loved. Bughead. I do not own the comics or show.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** Due to lack of inspiration, I have deleted "The Lies They Told" + "Of Roses and Pastels". I still have a lot of ideas for stories but needed to find one that I actually wanted to write alongside "Shattered Glass" + "Down the Rabbit Hole". So, without further ado, here we go.

It was the feeling of a hand trailing up her arm softly that first brought Betty back to the land of the living. She nuzzled further into her pillow, sighing contentedly as the hand was replaced by lips and those lips pressed feather-like kisses to her skin.

"Mm," she hummed, body buzzing.

"Open those pretty eyes, baby," a voice murmured, and Betty smiled. Cracking an eye open, she spotted her boyfriend of three years staring down at her.

"Hi," she whispered, and James grinned.

"Hi, yourself," James replied. He leaned in for a kiss but Betty stilled him with a gentle hand to his cheek, and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Morning breath," she mumbled sheepishly, very much aware of the taste in her mouth. He laughed.

"Baby, I don't care about that," he stated. He placed his hand underneath her chin, gripping it, and placed a kiss on her surprised lips. She tried to get her body to relax and melt into the kiss but she couldn't quite get there. He pulled back a moment later.

"Why are you so tense?" James wondered, and she shook her head, opting to aim for a smile.

"I'm not," she assured gently. She leaned forward and kissed him softly, urging her body to remain calm. It wasn't that she didn't love her boyfriend, because she truly did. It was just that the mornings after a night filled with alcohol always left her feeling out of sorts. She, not for the first time, had asked him to take it easy on the drinking at her work party the night before. Of course, he didn't heed her advice, and damn well drank himself into oblivion. It was a miracle that she was able to get him home.

When they pulled apart, James cupped her cheek, trailing his thumb over her skin.

"I love you," he said. "It's going to be you and me, baby. Forever."

Trying not to harp on the fact that his promise sounded less like a promise and more like a warning, she smiled as much as she could.

"Forever," she mouthed.

They stayed in bed for a few more moments, allowing Betty the opportunity to enjoy the calm before eventually rising up. She sat on the edge of the bed, sliding her feet into her slippers.

"Don't forget, I have a meeting with my editor tonight, so I'll be home late," she said. She could feel James's eyes on her and knew what he was thinking without even having to see his face.

"Not _too_ late, babe," he said, hand squeezing the top of her shoulder. It wasn't painful but it wasn't comfortable, either. She resisted the temptation to squirm away from the unwanted touch, knowing he was just showing her he cared. She nodded her head.

"I'll try my best," she murmured.

"Good."

XXX

Betty made it to the office with thirty minutes to spare. Perks of being an exemplary worker. She scanned her badge, smiling to the security guard as she walked through the doors.

"Morning, Phillip," she greeted him. He tipped his hat in her direction kindly.

"Morning, Ms. Cooper," he said. Betty smiled.

"Phillip, if I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times: you _can_ call me Betty, she replied. He nodded once.

"Apologies Ms.-Betty," he corrected himself, and she grinned, eyes twinkling. Once she had reached him, she reached int her bag, pulling out two tacos wrapped in tinfoil. While being a doting wife, Clarissa wasn't much of a cook. Betty tried her best to help out whenever she could. Phillip's eyes crinkled as he smiled, reaching for the tacos she was offering to him.

"You spoil me, Betty," he chuckled.

"Don't tell anyone here, but I think you're my favorite," she whispered.

"It'll be our little secret," he winked jovially.

She laughed, before tilting her head towards the elevators. "I should get to my cubicle."

He nodded. "Have a good day, Betty."

"Bye, Phillip," she smiled warmly at him, before continuing on her way. Phillip, in more ways than one, was something like a grandfather to Betty. Not having met either of hers', she had taken to Phillip like a duck to water. He was kind and gentle; sweet and caring. Add into the mix that he was always at work with an ever-present smile, and she was just glad to know he was their security guard.

Once the elevator dinged and Betty stepped out and onto her floor, she noticed at once that she wasn't the only early person. She smiled as she saw her friend, and colleague, Cheryl Blossom. Making her way towards her, she cleared her throat so she wouldn't startle the vivacious redhead.

"Morning, Cher," she said, and Cheryl looked up, grinning.

"Hey, Betty," she said. "I didn't think you'd be in this early."

"Hark who's talking," Betty said, eyebrows raising. Cheryl laughed.

"Ah, you caught me. I was at Teresa's last night, and considering her apartment is further from the office than mine, I just left extremely early," Cheryl admitted, and Betty rolled her eyes fondly.

"So, things still going well with you and T?" Betty asked, shrugging out of her jacket.

"Yeah, they're gr- Betty, what's that?" Cheryl interrupted herself.

"What's what?" Betty asked.

" _That_ ," Cheryl said, pointing her finger at the junction where Betty's neck and shoulder met for emphasis. Glancing down, Betty was startled to see a faint fingerprint wrapped around the junction. She shrugged.

"Nothing," she said easily. Cheryl didn't look convinced.

"Betty," she began, but Betty interrupted her.

"Do you know if the boss is going to want the meeting to happen today?" Betty asked, looking at Cheryl pointedly. She got the hint and dropped the subject with a sigh, before shrugging.

"I don't know. I think so? He said yesterday that he wanted you and I to especially be in on the meeting as we go to print next week," she replied. Betty nodded.

"That's what I thought," she agreed.

As the two women continued to talk, more and more of their colleagues began to trickle into the office. It wasn't until ten to eight did her boss walk in. Eyes glancing around, they landed on Betty and Cheryl, and he made his way towards them.

"Betty, Cheryl. Good morning," he said.

"Good morning, Jughead."

"Good morning, Mr. Jones."

Betty felt herself flush under the look her boss gave her.

"Betty, I've told you: it's Jughead. Mr. Jones is my father," he said, and she nodded. Five years with her company, and she still wasn't comfortable calling her boss by his first name. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks tinted red.

"Sorry, Mr. – Jughead," she amended, mentally rolling her eyes at her own awkwardness. Jughead just took it in his stride with a good-natured chuckle.

"There's fresh coffee in the break room and the meeting starts in ten. Please, help yourselves, ladies," he said, before ducking into his office. Betty could feel Cheryl's eyes on her and turned around.

"What?" Betty asked.

"Nothing," Cheryl replied innocently. Too innocently.

Betty narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "No, seriously, what?"

Cheryl laughed. "It's just you could fry an egg on your face."

Betty's eyes widened as her hands shot up to feel her inflamed cheeks. She cursed herself.

"Hush," she reprimanded weakly, hoping Jughead couldn't hear her.

"Does James make you blush like that?" Cheryl teased, and Betty swatted her friend's shoulder.

" _Hush_ ," she hissed, looking around to make sure they weren't within hearing range. Cheryl held up her hands in surrender, before nodding her head towards the break room.

"Let's get some coffee while it's still hot," she suggested, and Betty smiled. Better.

XXX

During the meeting, Betty typed out avid notes on her iPad. Much like the studious student she was in high school, Betty still had that burning desire to learn more ingrained into her. With a mother like Alice Cooper, she was quite certain _that_ trait wasn't going to go anywhere anytime soon. Clearing the thoughts of her mother from her head, Betty refocused her attention back to the task at hand: making sure she had a perfect copy of notes from the meeting. While detesting that word on principal alone, Betty knew that it didn't hurt to have understandable notes.

When the meeting finally ended, Betty saved her notes before locking her iPad and slipping it back into her purse. As her fellow colleagues trickled out, she followed them, same intention in mind, when Jughead stopped her.

"Betty, a word if you will?" Jughead asked, and she paused, looking at him over her shoulder curiously before nodding and walking back towards him.

"Yes, Mr. Jones?" Betty asked, stifling a laugh when he raised an eyebrow. "I mean, yes, Jughead?"

He nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I wanted to talk to you about your piece on the city's orphanage."

She blinked, feeling disappointment swirling around in her stomach. She licked her lips. "Oh. D-Did you not like it?"

Jughead was quick to shake his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. The way you went after the workers at the orphanage, getting to the root of the problem? It's a true sign of a wonderful journalist."

Betty felt pleasure bloom in her chest at the compliment. She had spent the better part of three months hunting down workers for the orphanage, demanding interviews. She threatened legal action when some of the ill-tempered ones refused; something she was still going to bring to the table but they didn't need to know that just yet.

"Thanks, Jughead," Betty smiled softly, touched at his kind words.

"it makes me wonder how you had the tenacity to stay strong while they were undoubtedly threatening you," he commented, quirking an eyebrow at her. Two very long, very tiresome weeks at a place called Sisters of Quiet Mercy back in her hometown darted through her mind. It was during the height of her mother's true controlling mannerisms. Swallowing a shudder, she shrugged.

"I just do what it takes to get a story that needs to be published, well, published," she replied.

He appraised her for a moment, before humming thoughtfully.

"I have another story for you, if you're interested," he said. She looked at him curiously.

"Shouldn't Cheryl or Veronica take this, since they're the juniors to you?" Betty wondered, but again, he smiled at her.

"I'm not asking them. I'm asking you, Betty," he said. Automatically, she curled her fingernails in, a tell-tale sign she was distressed, before taking a moment to practice her yoga breathing her therapist had taught her at her first session with her. Once she had control of herself, she smiled at Jughead.

"That sounds wonderful. What story is it?" Betty asked, pushing aside the guilt she felt for getting the story over Cheryl momentarily. Jughead grinned.

"Excellent. It's an article I want published about battered women. Obviously, we can't have you interviewing any women in a shelter, but I have a few potential possibilities for interviews if you'd like to hear…" he said, but Betty was tuning him out. Investigating battered women? Was she really the best option for this? She thought about her mother, who always abused her verbally; then she thought about James who got a little too intense after drinking but…. well, wasn't that normal? _And_ he always made it up to her by bringing home flowers the next evening or taking her out to a fancy dinner. And the few times he had slapped her around were miniscule compared to what horrors true victims faced every day.

"…I was thinking I can introduce you to one of my friends, and…Betty, you alright?" Jughead asked, and she blinked, realizing she had yet to tell him if she was interested. She nodded her head.

"Yeah, yes. I'm fine. This sounds great, Jughead. I'll do it," she murmured, and he studied her for a moment. She kept her face carefully blank, and he smiled a moment later.

"Great. I'll set you up with my friend. Her name is Toni. She should be good at laying a solid foundation for you to build your interviews on," Jughead promised, and Betty nodded.

"Great. That sounds great," she replied, smiling as she pushed aside her other, more annoying thoughts.

"Alright. We'll start you tomorrow then, shall we?" Jughead asked. "I'll have Toni meet you at the coffee house down the street."

Betty, again, nodded. (Could she do anything else?)

"Alright, that works for me. I can meet her there by eight, if that's alright?" Betty asked, and Jughead chuckled.

"She won't like it, but she'll be there," he promised, and Betty frowned, suddenly feeling like she was putting his friend through a lot of trouble.

"Oh. Oh, I can change the time…," she trailed off as Jughead quickly shook his head.

"Eight is fine," he assured.

"Alright," she murmured, and he sent her on her way.

XXX

By the time Betty got home that evening, it was later than she anticipated, meaning dinner was going to be nowhere near ready by the time James got home. That was, if he wasn't home already. A small sigh escaped her lips as she unlocked their door, kicking her heels off by their coatrack.

"And, here was me thinking you ran off with your editor," James's voice was right next to her ear, hand squeezing the back of her neck ever so slightly. It wasn't enough to cause alarm but she could already smell the stench of alcohol on his breath and thought she'd be better off not risking provoking him further. She tried to turn in his grasp but he tightened his grip, keeping her facing the wall.

"James, sweetheart, I'm sorry," she murmured. "The editor did look over my work, told me it was good. But I have even better news."

"Yeah? What's better than a well-earned apology about why my damn dinner isn't ready?" James whispered. Betty licked her lips.

"I got a new job offer by my boss, Jug-Mr. Jones," she said, catching herself last minute. James absolutely detested when people in authority acted like a friend and not a boss. Especially men.

"Hmm, did you now?" James asked. "And, what might that be?"

Betty licked her lips again, debating on telling him everything or editing a bit. She went with the second option.

"I'm going to interview women who have had some hard times in their lives and make an article out of it," she said.

"Maybe you should interview your mom," James suggested, finally letting go of her neck in favor of downing the rest of his whisky that was in his other hand. Betty turned to look at him, carefully calculating if he was serious or not. But then, she spotted the hazy look in his eyes, and knew he'd be too drunk to remember this conversation in the morning, so dropped it altogether. What was the point of demanding to know why he sympathized with her mother when he wouldn't even be able to stand his ground?

"I'll go make dinner," she said quietly.

"Good girl," James praised her.

Betty exhaled a sigh of relief as he walked passed her and into his den, undoubtedly on the hunt for another drink. She was in for a long night.

 **Author's note:** Feedback welcomed!


	2. Chapter 2

Betty woke up two hours before she was supposed to meet Toni. She quickly placed a kiss on James's cheek, watching as his brow furrowed in his sleep. She sighed quietly, before getting out of bed altogether and softly padding her way to their bathroom. A cursory glance at herself in the mirror and something caught her eye, causing her to pause and look more closely at her reflection. There was the imprint of James's fingers again, wrapped around the junction between her shoulder and neck. In the bathroom light, it looked redder and more defined. Sighing, she turned her attention from the mirror and started the shower.

As she showered, Betty's mind strayed to the night before. James was pleased with the dinner she had made until he wasn't. He had gotten upset over something as simple as the salt and pepper shakers not being lined up evenly on the table. Betty had tried to fix the mistake she had made, (because, it was clearly her fault to begin with), but in one quick movement, he had swept his hand across the table, sending the shakers flying and then crashing to the ground, where they shattered. Laughing at her dumbfounded look, James just told her to clean it up.

Betty's shower eventually ended and she got out, toweling off before slipping on her robe. She made her way back into their room to spot James still sleeping. Walking to their kitchen, Betty turned on the coffee pot, hoping the smell of coffee wafting through their apartment would help rise him from his slumber. He needed to get work as much as she did. Once the coffee pot beeped, Betty poured two mugs and made her way back to their bedroom where, she was pleased to find out, the coffee wafting through the apartment had the desired effect. James was waking up.

"Morning," Betty said softly, making sure her tone was nice and gentle lest he had a headache from his alcohol consumption the night before.

"Mm, morning, baby," James said. He reached out, fingers searching until they found their destination. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, squeezing gently. "Is that coffee I smell?"

Betty smiled. "Yeah, I made you a cup. And, myself, too."

James sighed. "I don't deserve you."

Betty didn't comment on that particular statement. Instead, she opted to tell him to drink his coffee while it was still warm and placed another, feather-light kiss on his cheek. At the last minute, James turned his head and she found herself pressing her lips against his in an almost bruising kiss. James wasn't exactly known for his gentle nature, drunk or not. Biting on her lip, Betty felt herself fighting a wince. She wasn't in the mood for anything serious right now. Sighing, she pulled back once he let go of her lip.

"James, I've got to get ready for work," she mumbled. James tightened his grip on her wrist.

"Or, you can stay here with me, in bed," he murmured, eyes alight with energy. Betty glanced down at her wrist and then up at him.

"You're hurting me," she murmured, and that only spurred him on to squeeze harder.

"Come on baby, call in," he whispered, tongue licking the tip of his top lip. Betty searched his face, knowing that when he was in a mood like this, it took a lot of convincing on her part to get him to see her way, he was so persistent. She chose her words carefully.

"James, you know I'd love nothing more than to stay home and be in bed with you all day," she began, and he grinned lazily. "But, I've got to go interview the first woman for the new job Mr. Jones set me up with. Don't you want me to go out and succeed?"

"Not if it means you're away from me," James replied. Betty knew he didn't mean it to be a detrimental statement, but she felt the need to snap at him about needing independence. Instead, she swallowed her anger down, painting a smile on her face.

"I'll be back home before you know it," she murmured. James studied her for a long moment, before nodding. He released her wrist and Betty resisted the temptation to rub it soothingly.

"Alright, baby. Have a good day," he said, and she smiled.

"Thank you," she said. What she was thanking him for, truly, she didn't know. Was it the fact that he was letting her out of the house? The fact that the conversation didn't escalate, causing his temper to emerge? She was uncertain but found herself relieved all the same. She hurried to get ready, glancing at their bedside clock. She had an hour before she had to meet Toni now.

XXX

By the grace of God, Betty made it to the coffee shop she was supposed to meet Toni at with ten minutes to spare. She hurried inside and found a table to sit at while she waited. Not knowing what the other woman looked like, Betty decided to see if she could guess based on what she knew about her boss. He liked to write; he consumed food like he was a human vacuum. Not exactly enough to warrant a description of what his friend looked like. Sighing, she realized she'd just have to take an educated guess. And, hope the other woman would recognize _her._

Betty ordered two black coffees and extra cream and sugar as she waited. She watched people entering the shop, coming inside from the cold. Someone of them were laughing merrily; others were on a rush to get their coffee and leave. It never failed to amaze Betty the types of different people she encountered during her day. Just then, a throat clearing brought her out of her musings and she blinked, looking up. She spotted a petite woman with pink hair smiling at her.

"Are you Betty?" She asked, and Betty nodded.

"Yes. Are you Toni?" Betty asked.

"That's what they call me," Toni replied, and Betty chuckled.

"Please, take a seat, Toni," she said, indicating the free chair across from her. Toni took off her jacket, placing it on the back of the chair before taking a seat. She glanced at the coffee in front of her.

"Is this for me?" Toni asked politely, and Betty nodded.

"Yes," she said kindly. "I didn't know how you drank it, so I got sugar and creamer in case you preferred that to black."

Toni smiled appreciatively. "Thank you. Jughead told me you were nice."

Betty blinked. Jughead had talked to Toni about her? Well, that was nice. Pushing aside the thoughts, she looked back at Toni.

"Jughead said you're the best person to lay down the foundation for the interviews I'm supposed to be getting for the battered women article I'm working on," she said, and Toni nodded.

"Yes, I suppose Jug _would_ say that, given my history," Toni said quietly. Betty's heart ached for the woman across from her.

"I just want to let you know that regardless of what you share with me today, I think you're incredibly brave to even agree to the interview in the first place," she said compassionately. Toni studied her for a long moment.

"Looks like Jug can tell a nice person as easily as the next person," she chuckled, and Betty smiled softly.

"Thanks," she replied.

Toni took a sip of her coffee after adding some sugar to it, before looking at Betty.

"How do you want to do this?" Toni asked.

"Well," Betty said carefully. "I typed up some questions and whichever ones you feel comfortable answering will be perfect."

"Betty," Toni said. "I'm an open book. I'll answer them all."

Taking her own sip of coffee to collect her thoughts, Betty nodded.

"Alright. First one: have you ever been in an abusive relationship?" Betty asked softly.

Surprisingly, Toni shook her head. "No. I've been in three."

"Three?" Betty repeated, horrified. Toni laughed slightly; it sounded humorless.

"I was born into what you'd call a family of abuse. It didn't stop when I started meeting men," she said quietly.

A family of abuse. Betty could relate to that all too well. Instead of commenting on that, she pushed forward.

"How were you able to recognize the signs of abuse?" Betty asked quietly.

"When your third boyfriend forces your hand onto the hot stove because you're not cooking the meal he wanted, you sort of make the connection that maybe you don't have the healthiest of relationships," Toni murmured.

"Oh my god," Betty whispered, heart clenching. "Does Jughead know?"

"He was the one who got me out of that relationship and secured me a spot in a women's shelter. I stayed there for two months while they helped me get back on my feet," she replied.

"What did you do once you were out of the shelter?" Betty asked.

Toni laughed. "Swore myself off from men."

Betty quirked an eyebrow. "Does that mean…?"

"I only date women now, yes," Toni replied, and Betty felt her eyes go round. Toni laughed.

"Don't worry Betty, you're cute, but I'm not going to hit on you," she promised and Betty felt herself get red.

"Oh, god no! That's not what I was thinking at all. I should be so lucky if you hit on me," she uttered, and Toni nearly choked on the drink of coffee she just took. Betty sighed. "That's not what I meant."

"It's fine, Betty. Jughead says I have a way of leaving everyone flustered, regardless if they're attracted to me or not," she laughed. Betty couldn't help it – she laughed, too.

Mind on Cheryl, she grinned. "I can think of one person who would match your ability to fluster people."

Toni quirked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? She single?"

"Unfortunately not," Betty shook her head apologetically.

"Damn," Toni muttered. Betty let out a peal of laughter.

"I like you, Toni," she said, and Toni grinned.

XXX

As the interview carried onward, Betty found herself making small comparisons of herself to Toni. Toni had listed major red flags about recognizing an abusive relationship, such as:

-Getting belligerently drunk and taking it out on your partner.

-Fearing if you're going to upset your partner for no other reason other than being used to it.

-Your partner getting physically forceful with you, then apologizing, saying they didn't mean to and they loved you.

As Betty tallied up her mental compilation, she realized, a bit belatedly, she might be in an abusive relationship. Shying away from the thought, she looked back at Toni who was eyeing the pretty barista.

"Well, Toni, thanks for all your time this morning," Betty said, turning off her recording device. She had opted to record the conversation instead of documenting it on her laptop so she could assure herself she got every bit of the conversation, word for word verbatim. Toni waved off her appreciation.

"Anytime, Betty," she replied. She studied her for a moment.

"Oh, and Betty?" Toni asked.

"Hmm?"

"You might want to do something about the finger marks around your neck," Toni said, and Betty felt her eyes go wide as she shot a hand up to touch the marks. She hadn't realized her neckline of her shirt had slid down so much. Damn.

"Uh, this is nothing. I-I was playing around with my friend and, it, uh…" she trailed off, desperately trying to come up with a believable excuse. Toni looked at her with something akin to sympathy.

"It's fine, Betty. Trust me. I understand it better than you think. Just know, there's help for you whenever you're ready to seek it," Toni said, squeezing her hand gently. Betty etched a smile on her face.

"Thanks, but honestly, it's nothing. Just a friendly time between two friends," she reiterated, draining the last bit of her coffee. She stood up.

"I'm going to get a refill then I have to head into the office," Betty said, and Toni nodded.

"Tell Jug I said hi," she said, and Betty assumed "Jug" was short for "Jughead". She smiled.

"I will. Take care of yourself, Toni," Betty said.

"And you," Toni replied knowingly, and Betty averted her eyes as the two women parted ways.

Betty glanced at her watch, realizing she was a bit ahead of schedule. She got her refill and quickly made her way to the office down the street. Jughead was right: the coffee shop was close by. By the time Betty reached the office and had badged herself in, people were already moving about, getting ready for a day's worth of work.

Betty made her way to her floor, smiling at Cheryl and Veronica as soon as she spotted them.

"There you are, Betty," Veronica said. "I'm surprised you weren't the first one here this morning. That's not your usual way."

Betty bit her lip, torn between wanting to be honest and not wanting to hurt her two friends' feelings. She decided the former.

"I was at an interview of sorts with a woman Jughead set me up with," she murmured, hands wringing nervously. Cheryl grinned.

"Like, your next job assignment?" Cheryl asked eagerly, and Betty nodded.

"B, that's great!" Veronica enthused, hugging the blonde woman gently. Betty found herself breathing a bit easier upon realizing her two closest friends weren't mad at her for scoring the job when they had more credentials to their name.

"What's it about?" Cheryl asked. Betty took a sip of her coffee.

"I, uh, am interviewing women who come from abusive relationships. Some of them are going to have been in a shelter, like the woman I interviewed today," Betty said, and Cheryl nodded.

"This is going to make such a splash on the front pages of NYT," she mused.

"Archie might know some women from his mom's previous cases," Veronica added, and Betty nodded. Archie Andrews was Veronica's other half. Where she went, he followed. It was amazing to see how one person could love unequivocally and unconditionally.

"That would be a good idea to check into, V," Betty said. "I'm sure Ms. Andrews would know someone that would make a good candidate to interview."

Just then, a throat clearing interrupted the conversation and all three women looked up to spot Jughead standing next to them.

"Hey, Jones," Veronica greeted.

"Ronnie, Cheryl," Jughead nodded his head back at them, before turning to look at Betty.

"Did you meet with Toni this morning?" Jughead asked curiously.

"Yes, and it went well," Betty replied. She pulled out her recorder. "I even recorded the interview, if you want to hear it."

"Yes, please. Why don't you come into my office?" Jughead asked, and Betty nodded. She followed him into his office, shutting the door softly behind her. After indicating that she should do so, Betty took a seat in the chair across from his.

"How'd you feel about Toni?" Jughead asked curiously.

"That's she undoubtedly a strong survivor," Betty said.

"You don't think she's a victim?" Jughead wondered, and Betty shook her head.

"Victim implies that she didn't get herself out of that situation. She did. With your help," Betty murmured, and Jughead grinned.

"I don't view her as a victim, either. Toni is my sister of sorts, and when I found out her third boyfriend was scum, I finally put my foot down and intervened like I should have done years ago," he admitted.

"You helped get her out of the situation. That's what counts now, Jug," she murmured, trying out the nickname. He chuckled.

"Yeah, you definitely met up with Toni alright," he replied. "Let's hear the recording."

Betty pressed the play button, playing back the interview. She watched Jughead's face for any signs or clues that he was displeased; all she could tell was that he was in deep contemplation. When the recording stopped, she shut it off and looked at him apprehensively.

"You're as thorough as they come, Betty," Jughead complimented her, and she grinned shyly.

"Thanks," she murmured.

"I don't foresee any problems with future interviews. Do you have any men or women lined up already?" Jughead asked.

Betty shook her head. "I'm looking into it. Veronica is going to ask Archie, her boyfriend, if his mother can set me up with some clients. She's a lawyer and most likely will have a list of people, if they're willing, that I can talk to. I know this is sensitive subject material so will need to tread carefully and lightly."

"I'd like to be kept up-to-date on the process," Jughead said, and Betty nodded.

"Of course," she acquiesced. She knew that Jughead was trusting her to do a good job with her second assignment and she was determined to not let him down.

"Well, if I think of anything else, I'll call you," Jughead said, and Betty tilted her head.

"Call me?" Betty asked in confusion.

"Well, yeah. I figured we should work together on the assignment if you're up for it? I'm going to grant you complete freedom but if you have any questions or things of that nature, I want you to be able to reach me," he explained. Betty licked her lips nervously. James didn't explicitly tell her she couldn't have other men's numbers in her phone, he just strongly detested it. She nodded a moment later.

"Alright," she said, unlocking her phone and handing it over.

After typing in his number, Betty took her phone back and shot him a text.

"There. Now you have mine," she said, and he grinned.

"I'll let you get back to your desk," Jughead said, and she stood up, straightening out her sweater. She was too busy to make sure there were no creases to notice the look of confusion on his face. Perhaps had she been paying better attention, she would've spotted the fact that he, too, had noticed the finger indentations around her neck.

 **Author's note:** Enjoy! Feedback is welcome per usual. Xxx


	3. Chapter 3

Betty was as smart as they came. Having set up a sturdy education for herself over the years, she prided herself on her intelligence. It was one of the few things she felt that she had going for herself. No matter the mistakes she may or may not be making in her love life, Betty would always have her intelligence to fall back onto. That was something that could never be taken away from her and for that, she was impossibly happy.

She thrived on her work environment, reveling in the fact that she was able to voice her opinion and bring ideas to the table. It wasn't that James didn't let her do that, per se, it was the fact that he shot down almost every idea with an idea that he thought was better. She had learned to keep her mouth shut at their apartment by now. But here at work? People actually valued her intellect and ideas; she wasn't shutting her mouth anytime soon.

As the meeting she was sitting in carried on, Betty typed notes onto her iPad. Jughead was explaining what he wanted to see by the time they went to print the following week and she was desperate to make sure she hadn't missed anything vital. Once secure with her knowledge that she hadn't, Betty powered down her iPad as Jughead called the meeting to a close. She looked at Cheryl and Veronica, both of whom were chatting with one another, and made her way to them.

"Hey, Ronnie, it's Archie's birthday tomorrow, right?" Betty asked, the dark-haired beauty turned her attention onto Betty, nodding her head as she beamed.

"It is! We're having a party at the bar that lets him play his music. You're coming, right?" Veronica asked, and Betty bit her lip, thinking about what she had to get done. She still needed to set up some more interviews but also knew that if she went to the party, she could talk to Archie herself and see if she could get into contact with Mary Andrews quicker than anticipated. Smiling, she nodded.

"Wouldn't miss it, V," she assured, and Veronica's grin became more pronounced. Sometimes, it was so easy to make her friends happy. Cheryl hummed.

"I'm going to come of course, but I'll be flying solo," she said, and both Betty and Veronica looked at her in surprise.

"What happened to Teresa, Cheryl?" Betty asked, brow furrowed in concern. Cheryl sighed.

"We decided that we weren't as perfect together as we originally thought. She doesn't want to settle down and have a family and, while I don't want one right now, I _do_ eventually want to start a family with my partner. So, we decided after some serious thought to split on friendly terms," she replied, shrugging a nonchalant shoulder. Betty, of course, could see through her friend's thin smile, and hugged her gently.

"Oh, Cheryl, I'm sorry," she murmured, meaning every word.

"Nonsense, Betty. I'm fine. Or, will be fine," Cheryl amended with a chuckle, and Betty squeezed her shoulder sympathetically. Her mind drifted to her own relationship with James and, while still uncertain about a few things, she could honestly say she was still happy to be with him. They may have their struggles every now and again, but what couple didn't? If they couldn't resolve them, then what hope lied for everyone else? James and Betty had been the couple that everyone went to for advice. The three years and counting they had under their dating belt helped greatly in their favor.

Shaking her head, she cleared herself of her thoughts and focused back on her redhead friend. "Well, I'm here if and when you need a girls night."

"With mani/pedis and wine?" Cheryl asked hopefully, and Betty laughed, nodding once.

"Of course. What do you think I am when it comes to girls night? An amateur?" Betty teased.

Veronica grinned. "Make that three for girls night. Lord knows I need one."

"That's settled then," Cheryl said. "We'll do girls night a couple of days after Archiekins' birthday."

Betty hummed her consent, with Veronica following it up with a nod, before looking at Betty.

"Oh, B. Are you going to bring James?" Veronica asked.

"To the party or girls night?" Betty quirked an eyebrow, and Veronica rolled her eyes fondly.

"You know what I mean," she said, and Betty giggled.

"Yes, V, we'll both be at the party," she assured, and Veronica clapped her hands together.

"Yay!" Veronica exclaimed. "Now, I must go. I'm meeting Archie for lunch and then need to meet with the makeup columnist about a feature she wants to use one of my models for."

Betty nodded her head, grinning in pride at her friend's accomplishments. Veronica had snagged the title of, "Chief of Fashion", basically meaning she ran the fashion aspect of their job. "Have fun, Ronnie."

Veronica smiled. Then, in a whirlwind of dark locks and perfume, she was gone, spinning on her heel and striding away from them. Betty looked at Cheryl, who raised her eyebrows back at her, and they both laughed.

"Such a flare for the dramatics," Cheryl said, and Betty grinned.

XXX

The next evening showed Betty getting ready in her apartment with James. She was sitting at her vanity, applying a layer of ruby red lipstick, humming along to Lana Del Ray emanating from her iPod. James was in their bedroom, getting ready for the party himself. She didn't want him to see her outfit until the last possible minute, wanting to surprise him. As she capped her lipstick, she looked at herself, and grinned. Golden curls framed her face loosely, sheathing herself in a layer of protection. The red, satin dress she had clung to her small curves nicely, making her feel snug in her own skin. Her makeup was done to the T. She, while being humble for the most part, had to admit that she looked good. She just hoped James would appreciate it.

Betty stood up from her vanity, adding earrings into her lobes to finalize the look, before making her way back into their bedroom where James was tightening his tie. He paused his ministrations, raking his eyes over her hungrily.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, baby?" James asked, and Betty ducked her head down, blush kissing her cheeks.

"Thanks," she murmured. James made his way to her, placing his hand underneath her chin and tilting her face upwards.

"Look at me when I pay you a compliment," he said in a low, authoritative voice. Betty felt her heart beat a fraction of an inch faster as she nodded.

"Of course," she mumbled as he traced his thumb along her cheekbone.

"Who's the dress for, baby? Me or Archie?" James whispered, and Betty got the faintest whiff of alcohol on his breath. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his expected tendencies, she etched a smile onto her face.

"You, of course. You know you're the only one I ever aim to please," she murmured, hating herself for feeling the need to justify herself. Betty was a self-proclaimed feminist for the most part but, on nights like these, she sometimes stepped out of that persona and became the reserved girlfriend, (property?), to James.

"That's a good girl," James whispered, kissing her neck.

"James, babe, we're going to be late," Betty said.

"Everyone knows that it's fine to be fashionably late," James replied.

Betty shook her head, forcing a laugh. "We're already past fashionably late."

James sighed, removing his lips from her neck.

"Let's get this damn thing over with," he muttered, and Betty frowned, licking her lips.

"It's Archie's party," she reminded him softly. "It's important to V."

"And, inadvertently important to you," James added, and Betty's brow furrowed.

"Yeah, but…," she trailed off, unsure of what he wanted from her.

"Don't you think it's funny that we always end up doing things that are important to _you_ and avoid the things that are important to _me_?" James demanded, and Betty felt knots coil tightly in her stomach.

"I-I'm sorry," she murmured, hands shaking slightly. She curled her nails into her palms, finding instant relief when the nails met flesh. James grabbed her wrist, squeezing tightly.

"How many times have I told you not to engage in that deplorable habit?" James hissed. Betty winced at the vice-like grip he had around her wrist and knew she'd have bruises. It wouldn't be the first time. She couldn't look him in the eyes, too afraid to see anger. Eventually, he loosened his grip, allowing her to pull her wrist out of his grasp. She looked at the finger indentions, then at the floor.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go put a damn bracelet on and let's get this stupid party over with," he snapped, and Betty nodded hurriedly.

Once she had slipped on a bracelet, they were out the door and headed towards the party. Betty tried to swallow her nerves about how the night would progress, fighting the urge to curl her nails in.

XXX

The party was in full swing by the time they showed up. Betty smiled at Archie, giving him a hug when he greeted her.

"Betty, you guys made it!" Archie enthused, and she nodded.

"Happy birthday, Arch," she said, handing him his gift. He grinned and kissed her cheek, before looking at James.

"Hey, man, thanks for coming," he greeted, and James smiled.

"Honestly, anything for you guys, man," he replied, and the two guys shared a one-armed hug of sorts.

"There are you are, B!" Veronica called, and Betty smiled warmly at her raven-haired friend.

"Here I am," she agreed. Just then, Veronica snagged two glasses of champagne, handing one to Betty and sipping on the other one, herself.

"Let's leave the guys to it," she said, and Betty glanced at James and Archie, who were in deep conversation. James looked up just then, nodded once at Betty, and she took that as her cue that it was alright to walk away for a bit. She could always ask Archie about potential interviews later.

"Alright," Betty replied. Veronica linked her arm through Betty's and the two women made their way across the room. Once they reached the other side, Betty wasn't surprised to find Cheryl already there. Who she was surprised to see, however, was Jughead and Toni.

"Toni? Jughead? What are you guys doing here?" Betty asked.

Veronica grinned. "I invited them. Jughead wanted to meet Archie finally and I told him he got to bring a plus one. Isn't his date a total babe?"

Betty and Toni looked at each other, smirking.

"Oh, something tells me he's not her type," Betty replied conspiratorially.

Cheryl perked up at this. "What is your type then?"

"Women," Toni replied, grinning.

"Let me get you a refill and we can talk," Cheryl said, and they walked away from the rest of the group, not looking back once.

"There goes my date," Jughead joked, and Betty patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Sorry, Jughead."

"Ah, the heart will continue to beat," he assured, and Betty laughed. She took a sip of her champagne, looking around at all the people here.

"I didn't know you and Archie knew so many people, V," Betty commented. Veronica shrugged.

"It's mainly people of importance for his music career," she replied. "They've come to wish him well and hopefully talk about a record deal."

Betty grinned. "That's great, Ronnie!"

Jughead nodded. "Yeah, Veronica, tell Archie congratulations for me."

Eventually, Veronica did rounds around the room, making sure the birthday boy was having a good time and all the guests were being tended to. That left Jughead and Betty to themselves.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Jughead asked, and Betty looked at him in surprise.

"You know I have a boyfriend?" Betty asked.

Jughead laughed. "Yeah, I hear you and Cheryl talking a lot more than you might realize."

"Oh god," Betty groaned, face heating up. "Sorry, truly."

"It's fine, Betty. But, did he come with you tonight?" Jughead wondered. Just then, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, and Betty tried not to wince from the sheer force of it.

"Did who come with her?" James asked, and Betty painted a smile on her face.

"You. This is Ju-Mr. Jones, my boss. Mr. Jones, this James, my boyfriend," Betty introduced the two men. If he was surprised to hear her reverting back to calling him Mr. Jones, he didn't show it. Jughead simply held out his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, James. Betty is one hell of a worker," he said, and James nodded.

"Yes, she is," he replied, fingers clenching into her skin. Betty tried to shift around on the balls of her feet to make it a little more comfortable under his grip but he held her in place.

"Sweetheart, be a dear a fetch me another drink?" James asked, and Betty looked at the now empty bottle in his hands. She bit her lip.

"Are you sure you want another one, babe?" Betty asked timidly.

"Did I make it seem like I didn't?" James asked playfully, but Betty heard the underlining anger in his tone. She quickly shook her head, letting a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes stretch across her lips.

"I'm going to get you one now," she murmured.

James placed a less than gentle kiss on her lips, pulling back with a certain look in his eyes. "That'd be best."

Betty nodded and hurried off, heart beating rather uncomfortably against her ribcage. She knew based off the look in his eyes alone that James was already well on his way to inebriated. If they wanted to avoid a catastrophe, she needed to get them out of there as soon as possible. Grabbing another beer, she hurried back.

"James, I'm not feeling too well," she murmured, handing him the beer. "After that one do you think it'd be alright to leave?"

Knowing that he didn't want to be here any longer than he had to, he popped open the lid, drained the beer, and threw the bottle towards the nearest trash bin, missing it comically. Betty winced.

"Let's go," he said, and began to guide her forward by the elbow.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Jones. Please tell Cheryl and Ronnie we left early because I wasn't feeling well," she said, and she noticed Jughead frowning at her. He simply nodded, eyes never leaving James's hand that was gripping her elbow tenaciously.

XXX

By the time they got back from the party and were climbing out of the uber, Betty barely had time to wave off the driver before James was slamming her against their front door. Stars bursting in front of her eyes, she worked hard not to gasp as he leaned in close.

"If you _ever_ defy me like that again, you will come to learn your place," James hissed. Betty swallowed nervously, knowing he was referring to her questioning if he really needed another drink. She nodded.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, blinking back tears that threatened to escape due to the ache in her head. James stared at her for a long moment, breathing heavily, before loosening his grip and running his hands down her arms lazily.

"That's a good girl," he whispered. "Now, let's get inside."

Not knowing how else to respond, Betty simply nodded, and followed him inside, massaging the back of her head gently all the while.

 **Author's note:** Enjoy. Feedback welcomed!


	4. Chapter 4

**TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL ASSAULT**

By the time Betty and James had gotten ready for bed, James had had three more drinks and was what Betty would consider blackout drunk. She helped ease him onto the bed, making sure his head was resting comfortably on the pillow.

"I'll get you some Tylenol to ward off a headache," Betty murmured gently, knowing that she had to talk softly or risk upsetting him in this state. He hummed his approval, eyelids fluttering rapidly. Sighing, she headed to their bathroom, opening the door as quietly as possible. Once inside the room, she padded her way towards the bathroom cabinet and opened it, searching for the item she desired the most. It wasn't that Betty minded looking after James because she truly didn't. It was just the mere fact that they always seemed to find themselves in these situations. Sighing, she clasped the Tylenol and headed back out of the bathroom, quiet as a mouse.

James was still in the same position she had left him in when she went to go search for the medication. She sat down on the edge of the bed, handing him the pills.

"Here you go," she murmured. He took them with a sip of water from the glass she had gotten him when she passed by the kitchen earlier. He sighed heavily, leaning back onto the pillows. His eyes were opened halfway and he was grinning lazily.

"You know, you really looked like something else tonight in your dress," he said, smirking. Betty stared at him for a moment, wondering why the compliment didn't warm her heart the way it normally would. Sighing, she stood up.

"Get some sleep, James," she said quietly. She got ready to walk towards their chest of drawers to change into her pajamas when he grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her back down onto the bed. She yelped as she hit the pillows.

"James, what are you doing?" Betty asked, looking at him with a furrowed brow. He grinned.

"Thanking you for dressing up extra nice for me tonight, baby," he whispered, kissing her neck. Betty sighed. She definitely wasn't in the mood for this. Tilting her head to the side, she gently pushed at her boyfriend's shoulders.

"James, not tonight. I'm too tired," she murmured. He grabbed her wrists, pushing them next to her head.

"James-," Betty began, but he silenced her with a bruising kiss. Knots began to coil in her stomach. Surely, _surely_ he wouldn't do anything that she didn't want him to do.

"Shh, baby," James hushed, still gripping her wrists as he trailed kisses down her neck. Heart beating rather fast, Betty swallowed nervously.

"James, please, I said I didn't want to," she said, trying to inject firmness in her voice. James glared at her.

"So, because you don't want to, suddenly what I want doesn't matter?" James snapped, and Betty recoiled from his tone.

"N-No, sweetheart. But, we're both tired and you're already not going to feel well in the morning. Let's just go to bed, alright?" Betty murmured, trying to keep the shaking out of her voice.

"I'm tired of you thinking you're in control in this relationship, _Elizabeth_ ," James hissed, and Betty's eyes went round. Whenever he called her by her full name, nothing ever good came of it. Swallowing against her dry throat, she licked her lips nervously.

"James-," she began, but he let one of his hands fall from her wrists, capturing them both in his other hand, while his now free hand came up to cover her mouth.

"For the love of my sanity, shut up, Elizabeth. Just shut _up,_ " James snapped. Then, he descended upon her.

XXX

An hour later and Betty found herself getting out of bed while James snores filled the room. She winced as she made her way to their bathroom. Stripping out of her dress, Betty turned on the shower, setting the water to as hot as she could absolutely stand, before stepping under the stream. The water boiled her skin but it felt good. Scrubbing at her skin, Betty thought some things through.

She needed to get out of the relationship, she knew that much. How was the question. What had just transpired was something she never would have believed James was capable of. Sure, she had taken some slaps from him; had been subjected to verbal abuse, but nothing like that. She swallowed a sob, refusing to cry. James wasn't going to break her any more. Never again.

She got out of the shower, taking time to be gentle with herself whilst drying off. Then she threw on some jeans, tank top, and a sweater, before slipping into her converse. Throwing her hair up into a wet bun, she peeked over her shoulder at James, who was still fast asleep. She didn't foresee him waking up anytime soon. Quietly but quickly, Betty packed an over night bag. She didn't know where she was going. All she knew was she needed to leave.

XXX

Half an hour later, Betty's Uber was pulling up to the same bar that Archie's party was in. Praying that at least Veronica and Archie would still be there, she tipped her Uber driver, got out of the car, and walked inside the bar. The party was dying down but there were still some people around. Betty's eyes sought out Veronica but found Toni instead. Inhaling shakily, Betty made her way over to her. She was sitting with Cheryl and Jughead and all three of them looked up at her.

"Betty, I thought you weren't feeling well?" Cheryl asked, frowning in concern. Shooting her a small grimace, Betty focused her attention back on Toni.

"You told me when I was ready to talk, people would be there. Well, I'm ready, Toni," she said.

The pink-haired beauty looked at her.

"What happened, Betty?" Toni asked quietly. Betty glanced at Jughead and Cheryl, both who were looking at her in worry.

"Uh…," Betty trailed off, unsure how to answer that question. How was she supposed to explain what happened when she couldn't make sense of it herself? She knew she was running on fight or flight mode right now and the true reality of what had happened had yet to settle in around her. She was facing the calm before the storm, bracing herself for the worst.

"Did someone do something?" Toni asked gently, and Betty heard the sharp inhalation from Jughead but couldn't focus on that. She couldn't focus on anything but the pounding of her heart, reverberating in her ears.

"T-Toni, I'm sorry. I-I made a mistake. Nothing happened. I got to go," she muttered, standing up. Toni tapped Cheryl on the shoulder and the vivacious redhead slid out of the booth so Toni could stand up, too.

"Betty, wait," Toni said softly. "You have a bag with you, your boyfriend isn't with you, and you're scared senseless. What happened?"

Betty paused, one foot in front of the other, ready to make her departure. She didn't know how to do this; didn't know if she _could_. She had never admitted the abuse to anyone for a few reasons. One, she was afraid of what James would do to her if she did. Two, everyone loved him. Three, she herself had only just now started admitting it to herself. Sighing, she looked at Toni, silently asking the girl to fill in the blanks. She acquiesced.

"Does it have to do with what we talked about?" Toni murmured and, biting her lip, Betty hesitantly nodded.

"Okay. So, something happened tonight, yes?" Toni asked, and again, Betty nodded.

"Do you need to report it?" Toni continued with her questions.

"Woah, wait. Report _what_ , Betty?" Jughead asked, coming to stand next to Toni. Betty tried not to flinch at the fact that she was barricaded in. Toni and Jughead on one side, table on the other. Sighing, she shook her head.

"I don't need to report anything. It's fine," Betty muttered. Toni stared at her for a long moment, appraising her, before she issued a singular nod.

"Your choice," she agreed, and Betty breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wait, Toni, we can't just pretend like nothing happened," Jughead protested, but Toni shook her head.

"Jug, I love you, but this isn't really your call to make. It's Betty's choice if she wants to report whatever happened. As of now, all we need to worry about is making sure she has a place to stay," Toni said firmly.

"She can stay with me," Cheryl piped up, and Betty looked at her.

"Cheryl, I couldn't possibly," she muttered, but Cheryl tutted.

"Betty, you're my best friend. Don't think I didn't see the bruises last week and put two and two together. I'm just sorry I didn't force you tell me what was going on and help you get out of that situation," she murmured. Betty shook her head.

"Not your fault," she whispered.

Jughead stared at the three of them for a long moment, before eyes coming to rest on Betty's face.

"James?" Jughead asked quietly, and Betty licked her lips nervously.

"Something like that," she murmured. Jughead reached a hand out, seemingly to place on her shoulder, but seemed to think better of it and withdrew it a moment later – Betty wasn't sure if she was grateful for that or not, not sure how she felt about touches by men at this point. She smiled, nonetheless.

"We'll get you away from him," Jughead promised. Betty nodded, knowing he knew a little bit about people who needed to get away from an abusive partner. Looking at them for a moment longer, she sighed.

"Let's go."

XXX

By the time it was all said and done, Betty had been taken to Cheryl's apartment without Jughead and Toni. Toni had said the less the people knew where Cheryl lived, the better it was at protecting Betty from James. When it was just the two women, Cheryl poured them both a glass of red wine and they sat down on her couch, taking sips every now and then.

"Want to tell me about it?" Cheryl asked gently sometime later, and Betty looked at her, before shrugging.

"Not much to tell, really. James always did have a nasty temper," she muttered, fiddling around with her sweater sleeve.

"The finger indentations from last week were his, yes?" Cheryl asked quietly, and Betty nodded wordlessly.

"Oh, Betty, why didn't you just _tell_ me?" Cheryl asked softly, and Betty sighed, massaging her forehead.

"I have spent the better part of the past three years defending James and his actions to everyone, myself included. If he had a few drinks and shouted at me, it was okay, he had a long day. If he left bruises on my wrists from holding on too tight, it was okay, he was just showing how much he loved me," she murmured.

"Betty, you can't possibly believe that's love?" Cheryl asked gently, and Betty shook her head, laughing bitterly.

"I know it's not love. I deluded myself into thinking that that was it. That that was as good as it was going to get for me," she muttered. Cheryl squeezed her hand gently.

"What else happened tonight, Betty?" Cheryl asked quietly, and Betty swallowed passed the onslaught of tears building up in the back of her throat. She knew she needed to tell someone. She just didn't know how to say it. She took another sip of wine.

"Uh, James just doesn't have the easiest time with the word no," she muttered.

"Betty," Cheryl began carefully. "Did James force you to do something you didn't want to?"

Betty's eyes closed of their own volition.

"Oh, _Betty_ ," Cheryl gasped, pulling her into a hug.

"It's fine. I'm fine," Betty replied but she wasn't, nor did she think she would be anytime soon.

"We need to report this," Cheryl said, but Betty shook her head firmly.

"No," she replied. "I don't want to report it."

"Betty, you can't let him get away with this," Cheryl uttered, but Betty was firm.

"No," she reiterated. "It's done."

XXX

Betty showed up at work the next day as if nothing had happened. She sat her desk, worked on her interview with Toni, and conversed with Ronnie and Cheryl. Perhaps she was in shock but, and Betty suspected this was the more appropriate option, perhaps Betty was just resilient when it came to succumbing to horrid, unspeakable things. Sighing, she took a sip of her coffee and continued typing.

Just then, Jughead appeared.

"Betty, a word if you don't mind?" Jughead asked, and she nodded, saving her work. She stood up, grabbing her coffee, and followed him into his office.

"Yes?" Betty asked, looking at him expectantly.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay? After last night," Jughead clarified, and Betty nodded.

"I'm fine," she smiled. (Would that lie ever become believable to her?)

Jughead frowned. "Betty, you don't have to put on an act."

She shrugged. "No act. We got me out of a situation that could've been a lot worse and now I'm back to living my life."

Jughead studied her for a long moment, before sighing. "Alright. But, I'm here if you ever need to talk about anything."

She smiled. "Thanks."

"You're not going back to your apartment are you?" Jughead asked, and Betty shook her head.

"No, Cheryl said I'm welcome to stay with her for as long as I like. I just need to come up with a plan of action," she replied.

"Let me know if there's anything I can help with," Jughead said softly, and she dipped her head appreciatively.

"Now," Jughead said, shuffling the papers that were on his desk. "Onto the other reason I called you in here: your project. I understand if it's too triggering for you to work on."

Betty frowned. "Jughead, I _want_ to work on this project."

"Do you really think you're the best one for the job?" Jughead asked.

"Jughead, because of James, I'm definitely the best one for the job. I'm not going to let someone beat me into silence and fear. Not anymore," she said firmly.

Jughead studied her, before a wide grin broke across his face.

"Betty Cooper, resilient force to be reckoned with. Go and get em'," he said.

She returned his grin. Betty Cooper would go and get em' alright.

 **Author's notes:** Jughead and Betty will start growing closer as she opens up piece by piece. Enjoy. Xxx


	5. Chapter 5

Betty knew now that she was out from under James's control, she could do anything she pleased without having to worry about feeling fallout. If she wanted to work late? Done. If she wanted to go out to happy hour with her friends from work? Check. She had a newfound sense of freedom that she hadn't experienced, not even growing up. Alice Cooper had been an unusually harsh mother growing up. If it wasn't Betty's weight, it was Betty's grades. There was always something perturbing the older woman. When Betty had moved out of her home and into the city, she thought she had escaped abusive clutches when in reality, she had run straight into another horror with his arms wide open.

Betty soon found the work day ending and smiled delightedly. She had made massive progress with editing Toni's interview and had emailed the first rough draft to Jughead five minutes prior to shutting down her laptop. She took a sip out of her tea Cheryl had made her before leaving for the evening. Betty knew that she should wait around at least a few minutes more to see if Jughead would read the rough draft tonight or in the morning. The man never seemed to go home.

"Betty?" Jughead's voice carried through their empty office and she stood up, smoothing out her dress before making her way towards his office. She peered her head around the door that was left ajar and smiled at him.

"Yes?" Betty asked, and Jughead beckoned her forward with two quick curls of his fingers. She took that as her cue to go ahead and let herself into his office so she walked further inside the room and sat down on the chair she had been sitting on more times this week than she had all of her career. She fiddled around with the top of her mug with her thumb as she waited for Jughead to tell her whatever he needed to tell her.

"So, I just finished reading your rough draft," he began.

"That quickly?" Betty interrupted, before snapping her mouth shut. "Sorry, continue."

Jughead frowned at her. "Betty, you don't have to apologize for asking me a simple question, you know. I'm not James."

Those three words soothed the ache in her heart a bit and she nodded her head before clearing her throat.

"So, you read the rough draft quickly?" Betty asked, still a bit hesitant but not as badly as before. Jughead grinned sheepishly.

"I, uh, may have had Toni give me the cliff notes version of it before you sent over your rough draft. I wanted both sides," he explained and Betty smiled warmly.

"Understandable," she replied. "So, what did you think of both of our versions?"

"You don't want to know what I just think about yours?" Jughead asked, quirking an eyebrow. Betty shook her head.

"Oh, no," she said earnestly. "I want to hear Toni's thoughts on how the interview went for her. It's important that she liked it, too."

Jughead looked at Betty for a moment, smiling softly.

"You're one of a kind, Betty," he said, and she felt something akin to pleasure blooming in her chest at his compliment. She felt her cheeks warm and cleared her throat.

"Thank you, Jughead," she replied. Then she looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to give his constructive criticism.

"Right, so the interview itself is amazing. Like I said, the questions you asked were the types that needed to be asked. You were gentle with the subject material but didn't treat Toni as if she were delicate. Take it from me, that is _not_ a mistake you ever want to make," he said wisely.

"Speaking from experience?" Betty questioned knowingly, and Jughead rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Yes," he admitted, and Betty chuckled.

"Yeah, people who have been put in awful situations and come out victorious usually don't like being treated as if they're breakable," she explained.

"Speaking from experience?" Jughead parroted her question back to her and Betty chuckled lowly.

"Guilty," she admitted. Jughead studied her for a moment and Betty made sure to leave her expression carefully guarded; she didn't want him to nestle himself inside every fissure she had.

"Well," he said. "You've done an excellent job. If this is your rough draft, I can only imagine what the final product will look like."

Betty dipped her head. "Thank you. If that's all…"

She stood up, getting ready to leave, when his voice stopped her.

"Have you had anything to eat since lunch?" Jughead asked curiously, and Betty thought about it, before biting her lip.

"Actually, I worked through lunch," she mumbled. "I just got so caught up in the interview."

He tutted. "Well, Betty, what do you say to a bite to eat? On me."

She bit her lip again, weighing the pros and cons. Before she had the chance to decline, he was speaking up again.

"This isn't like a date or anything," he assured. "We can discuss the interview or we can discuss the weather. I'm just starving and I know you must be starving too, having not eaten."

She thought about it for a moment longer before nodding.

"Alright," she acquiesced. "But, we're talking about the weather."

He laughed as she led the way out of his office.

XXX

"Jughead, what is this place?" Betty asked curiously twenty minutes later.

"Do you like pizza, Betty?" Jughead asked.

A nod from her.

"Do you like homemade pizza?"

Another nod.

"Well, we will be making our very own homemade pizzas for dinner tonight," Jughead explained, and Betty felt her grin stretch itself across her face.

"We're making our own pizza? Jug, this is fantastic!" Betty exclaimed, then promptly grew warm.

"I-I'm sorry. The nickname just sort of came out," she apologized, but he briefly touched her shoulder.

"It's fine, Betts," he replied. She looked at him, trying the nickname out.

"Betts. I like that," she hummed. He grinned and opened the door to the pizzeria for her. She took a look around, noting the emptiness of it.

"Jug, where are all the other patrons?" Betty asked curiously.

"The restaurant is technically closed at six every evening but I'm friends with owner and he lets me come here after hours as long as I clean up whatever mess I make," he replied. Just then, a man who looked to be in about his late twenties walked around the corner, grinning at Jughead.

"Jug, wondered if I'd be seeing you tonight. Who's your friend?" The man asked.

"Sweet Pea, meet Betty. Betts, this is Sweet Pea. We grew up together," Jughead replied, making the introductions.

Betty held her hand out to shake Sweet Pea's. "Pleasure to meet you, Sweet Pea."

"Likewise, Betty," Sweet Pea replied. Just then, Sweet Pea took the dishtowel that was slung across his shoulder off and handed it to Jughead.

"Kitchen is in perfect working condition, Jug. I expect it to be that way when I return tomorrow morning," Sweet Pea warned, and Jughead rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, Pea. You act like I've never made pizza here before. I know the ropes," he replied.

"Yeah but this is the first time you brought a date. Does she know the ropes?" Sweet Pea challenged.

"It's not a date," came the simultaneous reply. Jughead and Betty looked at each other and laughed, before looking back at Sweet Pea who was smirking.

"Okay. Whatever you guys say. Just clean up the mess before you leave," he instructed them. Then, he slipped off his apron, dusted his hands off on the apron, and hung it up. "I'll see you later, Jug."

"Later, Pea," Jughead replied. He tilted his head towards the kitchen, wordlessly inviting Betty to follow him, and she did. She took in the restaurant as she walked and she noticed the pictures of the city hanging up on the walls.

"These are beautiful. Do you think Sweet Pea would tell me who took the pictures?" Betty asked.

"These guys did," Jughead replied, wiggling his fingers in front of her.

"You're a photographer?" Betty wondered.

"It's a hobby of mine," he said.

"Looks more like it could be an art," she said, and he grinned.

"Thanks. Let's make the pizzas," he replied, and she nodded, feeling excited. They walked into the kitchen that was at the back of the pizzeria, and Jughead flipped on a set of lights. Betty looked at all of the pots and pans hanging from the ceiling; the sharp knifes in their holders.

"How do we do this?" Betty asked, and Jughead grinned, before taking down a mixing bowl.

"First, we need to prepare the dough," he explained, and Betty nodded. Seemed easy enough. She watched as he threw in all the ingredients for the dough into the mixing bowl, before looking at her.

"would you like to do the honors?" Jughead asked, tilting his head towards the mixing bowl. Betty nodded.

"Yes, please," she replied, and they switched places. She turned on the mixers, letting the dough whip around in the bowl until it came to form.

"Now what?" Betty looked at Jughead.

"Now that we have the actual dough made, we need to knead it," he replied. Betty took the dough out of the mixing bowl and the two partners set about rolling and kneading the dough. The dough felt soft and cool to the touch against Betty's fingertips and she was reminded of a time when her dad was still alive. He would love to have her help in the mornings when he made breakfast. Sighing wistfully, Betty continued to knead the dough.

"Everything alright?" Jughead asked, fingers working in tandem with hers'.

She nodded. "Yeah. Just thinking about how this reminds me of cooking with my dad."

"Do you guys still get to cook together whenever you go see him?" Jughead asked.

"My dad died about ten years ago, when I was sixteen," she said, staring down at her hands as they worked their way through the dough. "Heart attack."

"God, Betty, I'm sorry," Jughead murmured, but she smiled softly at him.

"It's okay, Jug, you didn't know," she replied.

"Well, he must've been a great guy," Jughead said.

"What makes you think that?" Betty asked.

"Because he raised you," he replied, and Betty grinned.

"Thanks, Juggie," she said.

"Juggie?"

"I'm trying out all types of nicknames for you. Don't worry, though, it'll still be Jughead at the office," she promised.

He laughed. "Yeah, I've got a reputation to protect."

The finished kneading the dough and each cut into it, splitting it in half. As they started adding ingredients, Betty looked at Jughead.

"Your turn," she said.

"My turn?" Jughead repeated, and she nodded.

"Yeah, I shared something I liked from my childhood. Now you go," she explained. Jughead seemed to be taking her request seriously so she gave him all the time he needed to think as she laid down an extra layer of pepperoni.

"When I was about nine or ten, my little sister would come wake me up in the middle of the night if there was a storm. She didn't want to wake my parents because she couldn't find her way to their room in the dark. She was really little at this point. Anyways, she'd come into my room and shake my shoulder until I woke up. As soon as I'd hear the thunder and see the tears on her face, I knew what the problem was. I'd get out of bed and build a small blanket fort for the two of us, then we'd both crawl into it and go back to sleep. _After_ I told her stories I had to make up on the spot for an hour," he added, laughing at the memory.

Betty laughed gently at his story, feeling like she was right there in his memory as well.

"When I was little, I used to be afraid of the dark," she said. "My older sister would always stay with me until I fell asleep, making sure to leave the nightlight on for me. I didn't grow out of that fear until a little too old for comfort."

Jughead shook his head. "I can't sleep in total darkness. I have to have some form of light coming through my windows."

Whether or not that was true, Betty still felt touched at his attempt to make her feel less embarrassed.

They continued talking as they put their pizzas into the oven.

"How about your mom?" Jughead asked, but Betty shook her head, indicating she didn't want to talk about her. She subtly slid the tips of her thumbs over her palms, knowing by heart where her scars were. That was a story for a different day, if ever. Thankfully, Jughead had the decency to not push.

When their pizzas were ready and they were sitting down to eat them, Jughead looked at Betty.

"So what do you think, Betts? Better than talking about the weather?"

Laughing, she took a bite of her pizza and nodded her head. "Definitely better than talking about the weather."

 **Author's note:** Hello, friends! I have come back from vacation. (Got some cool photography time in, too.) Anyways, didn't bring my laptop so got absolutely no writing done. But I'm back and ready to write. Here's the next chapter and other stories will be updated as the weekend goes on. Hope you enjoy and have a Happy New Year! Xxx


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Betty got back to Cheryl's apartment, she was still in good spirits. Her dinner with Jughead, (which, was not a date, thank you very much), had left a blinding smile plastered onto her face. She knew it'd be awhile before it wore off. She slipped into the apartment as quiet as a mouse, fearing she'd wake up Cheryl if she was any louder. As she shrugged out of her coat, she thought over the dinner one more time. She had shared something personal about her childhood: she had shared about her dad. She rarely, if ever, talked about him. Not because she was angry or upset that he left her to deal with her mother on her own. No, it was more so she missed him so deeply it was like a physical ache in her stomach every time she thought about him.

As Betty made her way into the kitchen, on the hunt for a cup of tea, she thought over how Jughead had, too, opened up to her about his childhood. The way he spoke about his sister…there was a certain fondness and she knew all too well that he loved her dearly. It was the way she loved her own sister. Polly Cooper, eccentric as she might be, was a good sister. She cared about Betty and Betty cared about her. It had been the two of them against the world for so long Betty almost forgot what it was like to do things on her own. When she moved to New York City, she experienced life outside of her family for the first time. It was unnerving but exhilarating at the same time.

Betty opened the cabinet that housed the coffee mugs and pulled one down, grabbing a tea bag from the cabinet to the left of it as she did so. Adding water to her mug, Betty heated up her water in the microwave, wincing at the steady sound of the machine rotating around Cheryl's kitchen. Once the microwave beeped, she was quick to open it and retrieve her mug, settling the teabag inside the mug while she did so. As she made her way to the living room, Betty thought over how the night had turned out and how content she was with the way it had turned out, at that.

Once she was seated on the couch, feet curled up underneath her, Betty began to take sips out of her tea intermittently, getting lost in her thoughts as she did so. It wasn't until she heard a soft voice calling her name did she break out of her reverie.

"Betty?" Cheryl asked.

Betty hummed, acknowledging the fact that she was listening.

"Where have you been? I thought you'd be home hours ago," Cheryl said, stepping into the living room. Betty frowned at her friend, momentarily forgetting that Cheryl would have been worried when she didn't come home at her normal time.

"I'm sorry, Cheryl. I went out to dinner," she replied.

"By yourself?" Cheryl wondered, but Betty shook her head.

"No. Uh, with Jughead," she replied, ducking her head down as a knowing look colored Cheryl's eyes.

"Jughead, hmm?' Cheryl asked, and Betty rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you're insinuating, Cheryl, just don't," she sighed, and Cheryl smirked.

"I'm not saying anything," she replied, holding her hands up in surrender. Betty surveyed her for a long moment before eventually nodding.

"Thank you," she said.

"But, did you at least have fun?" Cheryl teased, and Betty threw a pillow at her.

XXX

The next morning brought an early phone call from Jughead. Reaching out blindly for her phone, Betty looked at the caller ID before answering the call.

"Hello?" Betty mumbled sleepily.

"Did I wake you up?" Jughead asked, and Betty could tell he sounded contrite. She shook her head even though she knew he couldn't see her and sat up.

"No, no. I needed to get up, anyways," she replied, yawning into her elbow. "Get a little coffee into me and I'll be as good as gold."

Jughead chortled. "Good to hear that. Listen, Betty, the reason I'm calling is Toni is wanting to meet up with you."

Betty furrowed her brow as she swung her legs out of the bed in the guest room. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course. She's actually just wanting to check in with you, has something she wants to discuss," he replied, and Betty blinked.

"Oh, uhm, well that's nice, but honestly I'm fine," she promised, and Jughead sighed.

"Yeah, here's the thing Betts: when Toni gets it into her mind that she wants something, she usually doesn't stop until she has it. She wants to talk to you. Please don't make me be the bearer of bad news," he pleaded, and Betty rolled her eyes fondly at his tone.

"Alright, alright, I'm going to get ready. Tell her I'll meet her at the same coffee shop in an hour and a half, yeah?" Betty asked, and she heard Jughead sigh in relief.

"Thanks, Betty," he replied. She smiled.

"Anything for Toni." And, you. No need to mention that admittance out loud.

"I'll let you go get ready, then," he said, and they said their goodbyes before Betty got out of bed. She made her way towards the kitchen where she could smell coffee brewing. Peeking her head around the corner, she spotted Cheryl pouring two mugs and sighed happily.

"Thank God for you, Cheryl," she said by way of greeting, and Cheryl laughed.

"Morning, Betty," came the reply. Betty accepted the coffee mug Cheryl handed her and blew into it before taking a sip.

"Since it's the weekend, what's on your agenda for today?" Cheryl asked.

"Well, Jughead just called me. He said Toni wants to meet up with me for something and then after that, I don't know. I might go back to the apartment to get some more things. James usually works every other Saturday," she replied. Cheryl frowned.

"I don't know if you going back to the apartment by yourself is the safest thing for you at the moment," she said worriedly. Betty squeezed her shoulder.

"Cheryl, I love that you worry about me but I'm a big girl. James can't hurt me anymore," she assured her best friend. Cheryl still looked worried.

"I'd feel better if I went with you," she admitted, and Betty hummed.

"We'll see. Now, I've got to go get ready. I'll tell Toni you say hello," she replied, closing the discussion. She could feel Cheryl's worried eyes on the back of her head but didn't turn around to acknowledge her. She didn't need anybody else to worry about her. She took care of herself.

XXX

An hour and a half later showed Betty walking into the coffee shop she had originally met Toni at. For a Saturday morning it was far busier than it had been during the weekday morning. Betty scoured the coffee shop, looking for Toni, before giving up and heading to the barista who was standing at the cashier, bored expression etched across his face. After placing her order, much to the annoyance of the barista when he found out he'd actually have to do something, Betty accepted the coffee he placed unceremoniously into her waiting hands. Ever the polite woman her mother raised her to bed, Betty smiled and left a tip in the jar.

Sitting down at a table tucked into a corner in the shop, Betty took a sip of her coffee, waiting for the pink-haired beauty to arrive. It was only a few moments later that the bell above the door chimed, announcing her presence. Betty watched as Toni got a drink, chuckling slightly as she frowned at the less than pleasant barista. Toni turned around, spotted Betty, and made her way towards her.

Sitting down, she sighed. "And, that jerk is one of the many, _many_ reasons I date women."

Betty laughed. "Good morning to you, too, Toni."

"Oh, it'll be a good morning once I've drowned myself in this cup of coffee. Bare-with me," she muttered, before taking a long sip. She sighed satisfyingly when she lowered the cup from her lips. "That's better."

Just as Betty was about to broach the topic of what she wanted to talk to her about, the bell chimed again, signaling the arrival of another person. Looking up reflexively, Betty spotted Jughead stepping in from the cold air, blowing on his hands as he did so. He looked around, spotted them, and waved.

"What's Jughead doing here?" Betty asked in surprise.

"I asked him to meet us. Since he's working on this project with you, it's important he's here, too," she replied. Betty furrowed her brow.

"I thought I had complete freedom?" Betty asked, eyebrow quirked. Toni laughed.

"You do, trust me. I just want Jug to be kept up to date. At least, with my interviews," she explained.

"That's fair," Betty agreed.

Jughead made his way over to them, coffee clutched in his grasp, and sat down at the table after pulling over another chair.

"Morning," he greeted, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Good morning," Betty replied.

"Still waking up so it's up in the air if it's a good one or not," Toni mused, chugging her coffee. "I'm going for a refill." With that, she left the table.

"And I thought I drank a lot of coffee," Jughead muttered.

Betty laughed as she took her own sip, waiting patiently for Toni to return to the table so the three of them could start talking about whatever it was that Toni wanted to talk about. Toni returned a few minutes later, rolling her eyes.

"First the barista is a jerk, now he's trying to pass off his number to me," she sighed, and Betty patted her shoulder in sympathy.

"Did you tell him you're gay with a capital G?" Jughead asked, and Toni shot him a look.

"Anyone with half a brain should realize that," she said.

"Mystery solved then," Betty piped up, and Jughead and Toni laughed.

"I like you, Betty," Toni commented, and she grinned.

"Oh, before I forget, Cheryl says hello," Betty said, and something akin to red painted itself across Toni's face, and Betty hid her smirk by taking another sip of her coffee. "With that, I think it's best we talk about whatever it is you wanted to talk about, Toni."

Toni nodded. "So, I've been doing a bit of my own research for the article and have found a few promising women and men who are willing to share their stories. I met some of the women in the shelter, and then the men I met at a support group Jug signed me up for."

Betty looked at Jughead and grinned. "That was very thoughtful of you."

"Just doing whatever I could to help my sister out," he replied, shrugging a shoulder. Betty could tell, however, that he was pleased he was able to help with the way his eyes shone with pride for Toni.

"Do you think they're going to be comfortable talking to a stranger about what was undoubtedly some of the most dark and terrifying moments of their lives? I don't want to trigger them," Betty said, biting her lip worriedly. Toni shook her head quickly.

"A lot of the survivors are like you and I," Toni said, and Betty pushed down her nerves at the word survivor.

"What do you mean?" Betty asked.

"They are ready to share their stories and fight back," Toni explained, a fiery blaze in her eye. Betty still wasn't sure if she was ready to share her story, however. She looked at Jughead.

"Do you need me to put a piece in about myself and James?" Betty asked softly, knots of worry coiling tightly in her stomach. She wasn't sure if she was ready for _that._ Wasn't sure if she'd ever be.

Jughead quickly shook his head. "Whatever you feel like sharing is completely up to you. You can share all of it, some of it, or none of it. There are no expectations being placed on your shoulders here."

Betty let his reassuring words nestle themselves inside her chest, making a home for themselves there. She felt like she could breathe a bit easier.

"When do you want me to start setting up interviews?" Betty asked, changing the topic. Toni fished out a slip of paper from her coat pocket and handed it to Betty.

"These are the numbers of the people who are willing to do an interview. I've already told them what to expect and how the interview process will most likely go. They're on board," she confirmed and Betty nodded.

"Thanks, Toni," she murmured, putting the slip of paper in her wallet.

"Well," Toni began, draining the last of her refill, "I think that's all of importance. I just really wanted to get the information about the other survivors to you so you can work alongside them."

Betty smiled weakly. She wasn't sure she had too much faith in herself to not drop the ball on this project; she didn't mirror the same faith Jughead and Toni seemed to have placed in her, at least.

"Thanks, T," Jughead said. "See you later."

Betty watched as Toni got up, kissed Jughead on the cheek, and waved to Betty. "I'm off. I've got to see if I can interest a certain redhead in brunch."

Betty grinned and waved back, watching Toni exit the coffee shop, phone in hand. She looked back at Jughead when she felt his eyes on her.

"What?" Betty asked, and he shook his head, clearing his throat a little.

"Nothing. Just wondering how you felt about all of this?" Jughead asked. She took a moment to think about it, playing with the lid of her coffee cup, before looking back at him.

"In all honesty I'm nervous," she admitted, and he furrowed his brow.

"About what?" Jughead asked.

"If I'm going to drop the ball on this or not," she muttered. She felt him place his hand on hers' and looked back up at him.

"If I thought that'd be the case, I wouldn't have brought you onto this project in the first place," he said kindly.

"But, my history with James…," she trailed off with a sigh.

"Is just that, Betts. History. He can't hurt you anymore. You won't allow it," Jughead said firmly.

"Isn't that the truth?" Betty chuckled, heart feeling a bit lighter.

The two of them sat there, enjoying the silence encompassing them. As Betty let the silence wrap around her like a warm blanket, she thought about how things had slowly started changing. She had gotten herself out from under James's clutches, had gotten herself into a new home. True, it came at a heavy price, (she still couldn't stare at herself in the mirror without feeling his hands locking her wrists in place), but she was doing better at managing her anxiety over the ordeal. She hadn't felt the need to curl her fingernails into her palm in a few days and she took that as the best sign of all that she was on the path to recovery.

"You know," Jughead started, bringing Betty back to the present moment. "You never did tell me all that happened the night of Archie's party."

Betty stared at him, thinking about her options.

"I understand if it's too personal or triggering, so I'm not going to push. I just want you to know that if ever do need to talk about it, I'm here," he added. Her eyes searched his and all she found was honest sincerity. She licked her lips, nodding her head a little.

"I can't talk about it yet but maybe someday," she said, and he smiled.

"I'll be there, waiting for that day whenever it arrives," he promised.

Yes, something had definitely changed.

 **Author's note:** Enjoy. Xxx (Also, I'm back on Tumblr. Going to try to be active on that again. If you feel like following me, awesome. Account is thistooshallpassXOXO).


	7. Chapter 7

_Betty ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Where she was running to, she had no clue – all she knew was she needed to get away. Far away. Her breath was coming in short puffs and her heart was pounding a tattoo against her rib cage. She could hear the beating of her heart reverberating against her ears, drowning out every other sound in the night._

" _Get back here!" James's voice pierced the night air and Betty felt fear swim through her veins. Still, she carried herself onward, not looking back once. She knew that if she could just run far enough to put distance between her and James then she'd be okay; she'd be safe. That's what allowed her legs to move faster, propelling her further and further away from him._

 _She had reached the end of the street she was on and came to an abrupt standstill, looking around in a frenzied rush. She didn't know which way to turn – which way would keep her hidden from the monster who claimed he loved her. His footsteps sounded against the pavement, alerting her to the fact that he was fast approaching. Sighing, she turned to the left on impulse and ran._

 _Betty didn't know where this road led or if she'd be even remotely safe running it, but she knew she had to try. Try anything to get away from the abusive clutches of the man she once loved. It wasn't until she reached the end of the street did she realize how screwed she was. Each way she looked there was brick walls closing in on her, leaving her with nowhere to run; nowhere to hide._

 _Breathing heavily, she slowly turned around as she heard the pounding of his footsteps inching closer and closer to her. She knew she was about to meet her end and there was absolutely nothing she could do to prepare herself for it._

" _Well, well. Look who we have here," James said lowly, smirking as he came to a stop._

" _James, please. I'm begging you. Leave me alone," Betty whispered, not above getting down on her hands and knees and begging for her freedom. James licked the tip of his lip, eyes raking over her body in a way that didn't bode well with Betty. She drew her sweater around her more tightly, trying to shield herself from his prying eyes._

" _You'll never be free of me, my darling," he said. Betty knew in that moment he meant every word he uttered. She forfeited the small glimmer of hope she had had left inside of her._

" _Alright," she muttered. "Just don't hurt me, please."_

" _Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, circling her predatorily._

 _He raised his hand._

XXXX

Betty woke up with a gasp, feeling a thin sheen of sweat coating her skin.

"God," she groaned. Her heart was going a mile a minute and she was shaking. Chancing a glance at the clock on her bedside, she noted it was five in the morning. She laid in bed for a moment, willing her heartbeat to calm down long enough so she could back to sleep but in the back of her mind, she knew sleep would remain elusive for the rest of the night. Sighing, she eventually threw back the covers and got out of bed, on the hunt for coffee. A cursory glance at the closed door as she passed it told Betty Chery was still asleep.

She padded her way into the kitchen, turning on the lights as she did so. The clock above the stove told her it was a little after five in the morning. Not the most idyllic time to wake up on a Sunday but she supposed she'd rather wake up at that time than continue having a nightmare. Sighing, she started pouring coffee grounds into the filter, before switching the machine on. Soon enough, the smell of coffee beans circulated around the kitchen, giving Betty the impression she was back in the coffee shop. Closing her eyes, she could almost imagine Toni and Jughead right next to her at the table.

Her phone vibrated and she stared at it on the counter she had placed it on, wondering who on earth was texting her at the crack of dawn. Sighing, she looked at it.

 _Come out, come out, wherever you are -James_

Betty stared in horror at her phone. She knew if James was texting her this early it meant he never went to bed. She hadn't heard a peep from him in about a week now but she knew better than to think he'd just walk out of her life without putting up some form of a fight. She instantly deleted the message and blocked his number, (something, she thought angrily to herself, she should have done as soon as she left).

The coffee pot beeped and she started, turning around to face it in surprise. She quickly switched it off before it could wake up Cheryl, making a mental note to brew her a fresh pot when she actually did wake up, and she poured herself a cup. She was trying to get the tremors in her hands to stop sliding through them but it took effort. Eventually, her hands stop shaking and she was able to actually hold the damn cup of coffee without the fear of dropping it.

She headed into the living room, where she could sit without being disturbed, and sat down on the couch. She pulled the throw off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her. Winters were always harsh in the city and this one was no different. She really wanted to go for a run, something she hadn't done since leaving James. She knew that it'd be the only, (healthy), coping mechanism that would help her clear her mind. As she had that realization, her fingers itched to curl in towards her palms. She looked down at them lovingly, thinking how easy it would be to give into the pressure of her mind.

She stared at her palms for a long moment, feeling the furious waves rolling off of her in a repetitive motion. Eventually, she knew she needed to do something to gain control of the situation and waking up Cheryl this early didn't seem appealing. So, setting her mug on the table in front of her, she sat with her legs crossed underneath her and cautiously pressed her fingernails into her palms. Not enough to tear the skin completely, just enough to feel the all too familiar, (and, beautiful), sting. She relished in the way it soothed her frayed nerves. Everyone had their vices.

XXX

Cheryl eventually woke up and by the time she did so, Betty had taken care of the redness around her palms and had a cup of coffee waiting for her.

"Morning, Cheryl," she greeted, and Cheryl plopped down at the kitchen table a little less than gracefully, shielding her eyes against the morning sun.

"Is that coffee?" Cheryl asked. Betty nodded.

"Bless you," she murmured, taking a sip from it and sighing deeply. Betty hid her smile by taking her own sip out of her second cup. Cheryl and Toni had met up at some club last night and by the sounds of it, Cheryl didn't come stumbling in until around three. Betty knew she'd be spending the majority of the day nursing her hangover.

"You're welcome," Betty replied softly, not wanting to trigger a further headache. She drained the last of her coffee, before looking at Cheryl.

"I'm going to go for a run and then I'm apartment hunting this afternoon. You've got the place to yourself," she assured, and Cheryl frowned.

"You know you don't have to move out right? You're helping with rent. I'm fine with it," Cheryl said, but Betty smiled gently.

"Cheryl, I appreciate the offer, truly, but I've got to get back to my normal routine," she replied, knowing how true that was. She missed being able to have her own place; her own sense of freedom. Perhaps Cheryl understood that because she nodded a moment later.

"Alright, B, enjoy your run," she murmured, and Betty patted her on the shoulder before going to change into running attire.

XXX

As Betty's feet hit the pavement, she felt her chest huffing along with each step she took. She had already exceeded her normal five-mile run and was seeing how far she could go before absolutely having to stop. She didn't know if she was running away from something or not, but no matter what, she kept her head down and her feet moving. She was flying.

XXX

Betty eventually made it back to the apartment, breathing heavily. She worked her way up the stairs instead of taking the elevator and let herself into the apartment. Upon inspection, she found Cheryl had moved from the table to the couch with a washcloth placed firmly over her forehead and eyes. Betty winced in sympathy at her friend.

"Hey, how's the hangover?" Betty asked.

"Dreadful. And, be a dear and use your indoor voice, please," Cheryl murmured, and Betty stifled a laugh.

"Sorry," she whispered. She went to go take a shower, knowing she wouldn't have to worry about agitating Cheryl there. Once through, she made her way to the guest room and got dressed. Since she was on a mission to hunt for an apartment, she grabbed her eyes, wallet, and jacket. She'd catch an Uber.

XXX

Thirty minutes later and Betty was standing outside of a nice-looking building that housed somewhat reasonably priced lofts. She was talking to the management when a familiar voice called out to her.

"Betty?"

She turned around. "Jughead? What are you doing here?"

"I live here. What are _you_ doing here?" Jughead parroted her question back to her. Well, things just got interesting.

"I'm looking for a place to call my own and found this place to be nice and reasonably priced," she murmured, scratching her forehead absentmindedly as she thought. If she lived in the same complex with Jughead, what kind of impact would that have on their work environment?

"Well, I can assure you it is a nice place to live in and I can attest to the reasonable price. I've lived here the past three years," he said, bringing her out of her musings.

"Hmm," she hummed. "Well, I'm still looking but this is definitely one of the best I've seen so far. I think I'll look at the rest after lunch, however."

"Funny, that's where I was just headed. Want some company?" Jughead asked.

"Yes, please," she replied politely.

"Do you like Chinese?" Jughead asked, and she nodded. "Great, there's this little place down the street that serves the best orange chicken this side of the city."

Her stomach rumbled in response.

"Let's go," she urged.

XXX

"So, you don't want to live with Cheryl anymore?" Jughead asked twenty minutes later over lunch. Betty swirled her chow mien on her chopsticks, taking a bite. She thought as she chewed, before eventually shaking her head.

"Living with Cheryl is great, exactly what I needed this past week. But I do miss my own sense of freedom. I want to learn how to rely on myself again," she said.

Jughead quirked a curious eyebrow at her. "You seemed like you were doing that just fine before."

"Looks can be deceiving," she laughed. He tilted his head at her, inviting her to elaborate.

"James, well, he controlled everything I did," she explained, getting lost in the memories of the past. "He told me what to wear, what to eat, things like that. At first, I never took notice of it because I just thought that was his way of expressing love."

"And now?" Jughead asked, and Betty looked at him. "Is that how you still think people express their love normally?"

Betty shook her head. "No. That was controlling abuse. I think I always knew the signs, deep down. I just chose to try and see the good in James."

"He abused you, Betts. I don't think there is any good," Jughead muttered.

"I said _tried_ ," Betty chuckled, heart feeling lighter than it had all day.

Jughead mirrored her laughter before they fell silent as they ate some more. It was only a few moments later that Jughead was clearing his throat.

"Hey, what are you doing tonight?" Jughead asked, and Betty looked at him curiously.

"Nothing, why?" Betty replied, and Jughead grinned.

"If you're up for it, I'd like to show you the city from a photographer's point of view," he said earnestly.

The offer was too appealing to pass up.

"Alright," she acquiesced.

"Great," he grinned. The finished eating and he paid for their lunch, ignoring her protests that she should at least pay for her half.

"I invited you out, therefore I pay," he said simply.

"Fine," she caved. "But next time, I'm inviting you out."

He had a twinkle in his eye as he held the door open for her. "Until tonight, then."

"Until tonight."

 **Author's note:** Enjoy Xxx (Also, I don't have a beta. So any mistakes I make are my own but I do proofread and try to catch them).


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Betty made it home for the day, she was excited about the evening she'd get to spend with Jughead. She knew that, while in no way ready for another relationship, her starting to trust men again was a massive step of progress. And what better man to start trusting than Jughead? A man who had never so much as raised his voice at her. She smiled softly to herself as she let herself into Cheryl's apartment.

"Cheryl?" Betty called.

"In here," came the reply, and Betty followed her friend's voice into her bathroom where she was sitting at the vanity, doing her makeup. Betty quirked a quizzical eyebrow at her friend.

"Going somewhere tonight?" Betty asked, and Cheryl nodded, smile plastered over her face.

"Yes! Toni asked me to go to this show tonight," she replied.

"Like, a Broadway show?" Betty asked, and Cheryl nodded again.

"Yes!" Cheryl chirped, alight with energy. Betty shook her head fondly. Only a woman could make Cheryl go sit through a musical for two hours.

"Oh, babe, you have it bad," Betty sing-songed, laughing when Cheryl rolled her eyes.

"Enough about me. What about you? How did apartment hunting go?" Cheryl asked, applying red as sin lipstick against her lips. Betty briefly thought about ending up in the same complex that housed Jughead. She smiled slightly.

"It went," she murmured. Cheryl looked at her curiously but Betty didn't divulge anymore information. Instead, she squeezed her friend on the shoulder.

"Have fun tonight, Cher," she said, and Cheryl bobbed her head.

"Thanks, B."

There was nothing more really left to say so Betty walked out of her friend's bathroom and down the hall to the guest bedroom.

"Oh, Betty!" Cheryl's voice calling down the hall paused her footsteps.

"Yeah?" Betty called back.

"There was some mail left for you earlier. I left the envelope on the kitchen counter," came the reply, and Betty turned around and headed towards the kitchen. Once there, she spotted a manila envelope with her name written on it. Not seeing a return address, she tucked it underneath her arm curiously and headed back the way she came. Once in her room, she sat down on the bed and opened the envelope, pulling out the contents. She immediately froze.

The contents in her hands were a handful of pictures. All of them of her, doing mundane things. Going to work, running the streets of the city, eating breakfast with Toni and Jughead. Heart hammering in her throat, she searched the envelope once more and found a note she missed the first time. Fingers fumbling, she pulled it out, reading the few words written on the paper lazily.

 _Why hide in plain sight?_

Betty stared at the words in horror before lifting her eyes back to the photos. They were all taken without her knowledge or consent and she wondered just how far James would go to get her back. Her phone ringing startled her, bringing her thoughts to an abrupt end. Reaching out for it, she answered without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" Betty asked shakily.

"Betty, are you alright?" Jughead asked over the line and she took a steadying breath to calm herself down. It was just Jughead. Nodding slightly to herself, she licked her lips in an effort regain her composure before replying.

"Fine. The phone just gave me a fright when it rang, I wasn't expecting it," she replied, eyes never straying from the photos on her lap. She needed to think, to figure out what to do. It was Jughead's voice that pulled her back to the present.

"I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner before I take you out tonight?" Jughead asked, and Betty bit her lip, thinking about it. She wasn't sure if she should go out with Jughead anymore. She had already put a target on his back. On the other hand, she didn't want to live her life in fear. Not anymore. She was exhausted with living her life that way. She eventually spoke up.

"Dinner sounds great, thanks Jug," she murmured. He seemed satisfied.

"Great. I'll meet you since I don't need to know where Cheryl lives," he replied, and it amazed her, how thoughtful he was. She knew he wasn't saying that because he was too lazy to pick her up; no, this was because James was still out there and still very much desperate to get her back.

She smiled. "Thanks, Jug."

XXX

The restaurant was beautiful and the view of the city from the deck outside was even more beautiful. Betty thanked the waiter when he handed her a menu, before looking at Jughead.

"Do you come here a lot?" Betty asked with a tilt of her head and he nodded, sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

"Guilty," he admitted, and Betty laughed.

"Then, you have to tell me what's good to get," she implored, and Jughead's grin stretched wider, filling his whole face up with mirth.

"The spinach pizza is really good, for starters. Like, _really_ good," he emphasized his point with a boyish smile. Betty could hear James's voice in the back of her mind, telling her that she should only eat minimally if she wanted to continue to please him. That was the thing though; she didn't want to please him.

"Spinach pizza it is," she said, taking a sip of her tea. When the waiter came over to take their orders and leave some garlic bread for them to enjoy, Betty turned her attention back to view they were gifted with after placing her order. The city was simply stunning at this time of night; energy alight and alive in every person wandering the streets. She wondered if they had someone to go home to, or if, like her, simply enjoyed their own company. She remembered a phrase she had read once in high school: not all those who wander are lost. It resonated something inside of her and she sighed happily.

"What is it?" Jughead asked, eyes twinkling as he looked at Betty once the waiter left. Betty simply smiled.

"Nothing. It's just, I really needed this. A night out, away from the craziness of my life," she replied, playing with the stem of her water glass. Her eyes felt unusually wet, and she would be absolutely mortified if she started crying on their…was this a date? She wasn't sure but she found herself silently hoping so.

"Hey," Jughead said softly, placing his hand over hers'. "It's okay to be sad about what has happened to you; about what James has subjected you to."

Betty swallowed the lump in her throat, smiling back as best she could.

"Thanks, Jughead," she whispered, placing her free hand atop of his. He smiled at her.

"Now, tell me something about yourself, Betty Cooper. Something I wouldn't have known from just being your boss," he said, and her smile grew.

"I love the Fall. It's my favorite time of year because it was the time my dad was at his healthiest and happiest," she murmured, getting lost in memories from the past. "He would wake me and my sister up really early on the first morning of Fall every year, and the three of us would rake the leaves up into this big pile just to turn around and play in them."

Jughead laughed. "That sounds nice. Your father seemed like a good man."

"He was the best," Betty said, thinking over the man who had loved her without conditions. Thankfully, he never had the opportunity to meet James. "I think he would've liked you, Jug."

"I hope so," Jughead said, and they smiled at each other. Something warm and all-encompassing was cocooning Betty inside of itself, making her feel safe and sound. She knew that she shouldn't be feeling...whatever it was that she was feeling, not towards Jughead. He was her boss, they didn't need to cross over an invisible line they wouldn't be able to find again.

"Jug," Betty began, tone soft. He looked at her with a smile. "What are we doing?"

Jughead smirked at her in a mischievous sort of way and her heart stopped before beating pleasantly against her rib cage.

"I kind of thought this was a date, Betts," he winked, and she giggled, feeling very much like a school girl with her first crush.

"I don't….do we have to put a label to it?" Betty whispered, looking down as she hoped she wasn't hurting him. He was gentle with his reply.

"Hey, Betts, look at me." She did. "We don't have to put a label to anything if you're not comfortable with that. We don't even have to be exclusive, as much as I want to be, if you're not ready. I won't pretend to know all of what happened with James behind locked doors but I'm not naïve; I know enough."

Betty stared at him in wonderment, before nodding ever so slightly. "Thank you."

XXX

After dinner, Jughead led her out to the parking garage behind the restaurant.

"Where are we going?" Betty asked, and Jughead turned to face her.

"I'm about to show what it's like to see the city from a photographers view point," he replied, and she couldn't deny the rush of excitement that raced through her. She nodded.

"Are we taking your car?" Betty asked.

"Something like that," he chuckled. Curious, Betty opened her mouth to ask what he meant just as he stopped in front of a motorcycle. She stared at it for a long moment, before looking at him, then back to motorcycle. Everything fell into place.

"No way in _hell_ am I getting on that," she spluttered.

"I promise nothing is going to happen. I've had my license since I was fifteen and am a very skilled driver," he assured her.

"How'd you even come about to think of riding a motorcycle?" Betty asked, stalling for time.

"That's another story for another day and, you're stalling," he teased, and Betty sighed. It didn't seem like she'd be getting out of this one.

"Just tell me you have two helmets?" Betty demanded, and Jughead nodded. He produced two from a basket on the end of the back she had yet to notice and handed her one. She stared at it.

"What does the crown signify?" Betty wondered, fingers tracing the crown painted on the helmet.

"My youth," he said simply, not divulging anything more on the matter. She supposed they all had their secrets. Nodding, she slipped the helmet on and sighed.

"Don't make me regret this, Jug," she mumbled as she sat down on the bike behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist tightly and could feel the vibrations run through him as he laughed freely.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Betts," he assured. She wasn't sure how convinced she was but she wrapped her arms around his waist tighter and settled in for the ride.

XXX

"Betts," Jughead murmured and she opened her eyes. (When had she closed them?) Looking around, she saw that they were on 32nd street, staring up at the skyscrapers that loomed before them. The lights were surreal from this point of view and she knew in that moment what Jughead enjoyed about being a photographer.

"Did you bring your camera with you?" Betty asked softly, to which he nodded. "May I use it?"

"You shoot?" Jughead's mouth curled into a pleased smile, and she nodded.

"My dad taught me a bit before he passed. I've never found the reason to pick it up as a full-time hobby but right now, I'm itching to feel a camera in my hands again," she murmured. Jughead taped her on the wrists and she released her hold around his waist. He stood up from the bike, offering her a hand to help her once he was on solid ground again. She stood up, letting some feeling come back into her legs as he went to the basket and pulled out his camera. She watched him.

"Isn't it highly unsafe to keep a camera on a vehicle that could crush it if turned too wrong and too fast?" Betty asked.

"And yet, _you_ still got on the bike, so what does that say about the safety issue?" Jughead challenged with a smirk and she rolled her eyes, swatting his chest playfully.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered. He handed her the camera.

"Do with it what you will," he said seriously, and Betty cracked a smile. She looked up at the sky scrapers, trying to decide the best angle she could get before crouching down to the ground. She angled the camera upwards, tweaking with the lens for a moment. When she was satisfied, she poised her finger over the shutter, looked at the building she had in view once more, and pressed down. The camera clicked feverishly for a moment, before stopping altogether. Betty stood up and looked through the photos she had captured, a pleased smile dancing across her lips.

"Let me see," Jughead said politely, holding his hand out. She passed off the camera, feeling energy dance through her like lightening when their fingers brushed. He looked at the pictures, whistling lowly.

"These are good, Betts. Like, really good," he said appreciatively, and she bit her lip at the praise, pleased he was happy. They drove around the city, getting shots she never dreamed possible. At one point, she convinced him to climb a fire escape to grab a shot of the Statue of Liberty.

"Live a little, Juggie!" Betty exclaimed and he rolled his eyes before sighing, with a nod.

"I'm going to regret this but alright," he muttered, climbing the fire escape behind her. Once there, she got the picture she wanted, realizing she wished she had her own camera. They headed back down shortly after and Betty handed the camera back to him.

"This night has been amazing, thank you," she said, and he squeezed her hand gently. She wasn't sure if he was going to kiss her but didn't object when he leaned in, placing his lips hesitantly over hers'. She melted into the kiss, feeling it soar from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes.

"This night has been wonderful," he murmured. "Let me get you back to the restaurant so you can call an uber."

She bit her lip. "I think it'll be alright if you drop me off at Cheryl's."

He looked at her hopefully. "Yeah?"

"Yes," she promised.

Then, they were off.

XXX

By the time he pulled up to the apartment complex, Betty was feeling tired. She stepped off the bike, smiling at him.

"I had a really great time tonight," she said.

"Me too, Betts," he replied. He brushed his knuckles against her jawline and she leaned in for a short, sweet peck on the lips.

"Get home safe, alright?" Betty asked.

"Scouts honor."

She chuckled as he left, motorcycle purring into the night. She was definitely falling for him. How fast was still up in the air. She didn't care, though. Right now, she was content. And that was good enough for her.


	9. Chapter 9

Betty was sitting on the couch, legs tucked underneath her and cup of warm tea resting in her hands as she got lost in memories of the past. She thought about when she was a little girl and her mother still laughed kindly and loved gently. She thought about how her dad, larger-than-life, would scare away all the monsters under her bed with one quick flick of his wrist. Her mind drifted to Polly. Sweet, innocent Polly who had always had a harder time understanding when their mother had turned into a monster after her husband had died.

Sighing, Betty brought the cup of tea to her lips, taking a sip and letting the warm liquid soothe her anxious heart. Nights like these were always the toughest because she couldn't get to sleep, no matter how many green teas she drank or copious amounts of lavender diffuser she sprayed against her pillow. She would often reflect upon what her therapist had told her during the early days of their sessions.

" _Don't let your past haunt your future, Elizabeth."_

Sometimes, all it seemed she knew how to do _was_ let her past haunt her future. She didn't know if she'd end up like her mother. She thought, having moved out as soon as she turned eighteen, she was escaping the abuse she was so often subjected to. But, she had run into another kind of abuse altogether, and she didn't know who was worse: her mom, or James. That realization caused an ache to start in the pit of her stomach and rise up, only coming to a stop in the middle of her throat and she felt like she was suffocating.

She didn't know how long she sat there, sipping her tea and thinking about long ago buried memories, but it came as a slight surprise when her phone buzzed. Looking around for a moment, she found it sitting next to her on the couch. She picked it up, smiling softly at the text Jughead had sent her, assuring her he had made it home safely. She sent him back a simple, "thank you, xx" and put her phone away, opting to try and get a little sleep, at least.

XXX

The days continued to pass her by and she began to blend in with the routine she found herself in. She'd get up, go to work, meet up with Toni and Jughead after work for dinner or drinks and work on the project. She liked the simplicity with the method they all found themselves utilizing. She knew she'd need to get her first round of interviews set up sooner rather than later if she wanted to have the article published in time for the next print.

As she was talking to Toni, a movement in her peripheral caught her eye and she looked up, trying to find out what it was that caught her attention. She spotted someone standing across the street looking at her but before she could get a better look, a city bus drove by and by the time it had passed, the person was nowhere to be seen.

"Betty? Hey, Betty. Are you alright?" Toni asked, and Betty looked at her, realizing Jughead and the pink-haired beauty were staring at her uncertainly.

"Fine. I just thought I saw – never mind, where were we?" Betty stopped herself, knowing if she voiced her fears then that'd only create worry she didn't have time for. She could feel Jughead's eyes on her for a moment before clearing his throat and consulting his notes he had taken to typing every time the three of them were together.

"We need you to be ready to interview Matilda Prosper," he said, and she nodded, running through a mental list of people Toni had suggested as interviewees. Matilda Prosper was at the top of the list, having come from an abusive family and being thrown into the system before she was fully able to understand what was happening. Of course, Betty would need to get the full story from the woman herself if she wanted to do a proper job but she knew she'd need to tread lightly.

Soon enough, they were splitting the check three ways and standing up. Betty slipped into her jacket, noting that with the sun going down, the nights became almost unbearably cold. Jughead looked at her.

"Would you like a ride?" Jughead asked, and she smiled. As tempting as the offer sounded, she needed to get back to the office for a few more things.

"Rain check for a later time, Juggie?" Betty asked, and she heard Toni laugh lowly. Rolling his eyes at his best friend, he nodded.

"Alright, Betts. Just – just be safe with getting home and let me know you made it alright, yeah?" Jughead asked, and she nodded, smile adorning her face. Of course she would.

"Of course I will," she promised softly. Then, hesitating for only the briefest of moments, she shyly placed her lips on his, feeling herself go weak in the knees when he deepened the kiss. When they pulled apart, he squeezed her hand.

"See you later, Betts," he said, and she nodded.

"Bye, Jug – Toni," she replied, dipping her head towards the woman. They both sent her smiles as they headed out of the door. Toni and Jughead turned left, and Betty made a right, taking the path that led to the office. She felt the wind biting at her ankles and wondered why she wasn't wearing something more suitable for the weather. Sighing, she wrapped her coat more tightly around her and set a brisk pace, thinking longingly of a hot bath and tea after she had the documents she needed.

XXX

By the time Betty had everything she needed, night had completely fallen. She started walking down the street, eyes on her phone as she pulled up her Uber app, which meant, unfortunately, she didn't spot the person sneaking out of the shadows and snaking his hand over her mouth.

"Scream and you'll wish you hadn't been born," James voice sounded against her ear, and Betty's heart stopped. She nodded.

"That's a good girl," he praised softly, dragging her towards the dark alley. He flung her on the ground and she groaned when her wrist popped. Before she could assess the damage, he was on top of her and her mind was suddenly blank. This wasn't happening again. It _wasn't_. She didn't want to be the victim. Not again.

No.

 _No._

She refused to let this happen for a second time. Forgetting about her injured wrist, she waited until he was distracted with unbuttoning her coat and lifted her knee, kneeing him directly between his legs. He groaned, disarmed, and she took her chance. She kicked him in the stomach and he rolled off her, still groaning.

"That wasn't very _nice_ , baby," he ground out through clenched teeth, breathing hardly. That was nothing compared to the anger Betty felt.

"I'm not your baby, James," she hissed. Then, with one quick kick, she had effectively knocked him onto his stomach from where he had been attempting to get to his knees. Soon, she was running and not looking back. She knew she needed to call the police – knew she needed to report the first attack and what was now a would be second attack.

As she ran, her mind remained clear. She didn't have time to wait for an Uber to pick her up, lest James come looking for her, so she hailed the first cab she could, darting in as soon as it pulled up to the curb.

"Where to, Miss?" The cabbie asked.

"The police station and step on it, please," Betty answered breathlessly.

XXX

The station was busy, given the city she was living in. She was told to sit and wait and an officer would be with her shortly. As she waited, she cradled her injured wrist to her chest, texting Cheryl with one hand, warning her she wouldn't be home for a while. After a moment's deliberation, she added where she was so the redhead could know she was at least somewhere safe. It wasn't more than twenty minutes later that an officer walked out.

"Elizabeth Cooper?" He asked, and she stood up.

"That's me," she said, voice strong.

"I'm Officer Reagan, let's step in here," he said, motioning to the empty questioning room with a tilt of his head. She nodded and followed Officer Reagan into the room. Once they were sitting down, he got straight to the point.

"The receptionist said you'd like to report an attack? Who's?" Officer Reagan asked.

"Mine," Betty said simply, and he looked at her, before nodding once.

"Do you know the perpetrator?" Officer Reagan asked.

"It's my ex," Betty said, and he exhaled.

"You're not the first person to come in about an abusive partner," he said seriously. "How long had the abuse been happening?"

"About since the beginning of the relationship," she mumbled.

"So that was…?" Officer Reagan trailed off, looking at her and she sighed.

"Three years," she muttered. He didn't tut or ask her why it had taken her so long to report the case. He simply nodded.

"Do we need to get you to the hospital?" Officer Reagan asked, and her mind flickered to the attempted assault briefly, then her wrist, before looking at him.

"I hurt my wrist in the fight, but I wasn't assaulted in that way, not this time," she said.

"What do you mean 'not this time'?"

"Uh, I mean…something's happened before," she said, looking down. She wondered why she felt embarrassed all of sudden, she knew this wasn't her fault – something Reagan reiterated.

"This is not your fault, Elizabeth. Don't go blaming yourself, kid," he said in a surprisingly gentle tone. She nodded, swallowing thickly.

"Alright," she whispered. They talked a bit more, with her giving a detailed description of what James looked like, before he let her leave the room. Once outside in the office again, she spotted Cheryl, Toni, and Jughead, all sitting and looking around impatiently. When his eyes fell on her, Jughead stood up suddenly, alerting Toni and Cheryl to her arrival.

"Betts, what happened?" Jughead asked quietly, but she shook her head, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

"I think what Ms. Cooper needs is to have an x-ray of her wrist, then to be taken home. I assure you, Elizabeth, you have my word we will find him," Reagan promised, and she smiled as much as she could.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Then, she was walking out of the precinct, her current company trailing behind her worriedly.

XXX

A diagnosis for a sprained wrist later, and Betty was walking into the apartment she shared with Cheryl with Jughead and Toni in tow. They all sat down on the couch, letting Betty set the pace for how she wanted to talk. Eventually she looked at them.

"I ran into James tonight," was the only thing she said, but it was enough. Jughead inhaled sharply as Toni's eyes became ablaze. Cheryl looked like she was forced to swallow poison.

"How _dare_ he," she uttered, but Betty shook her head.

"I reported the would be attack -," she began, but Jughead interrupted her.

"'Would be'?" Jughead asked. "So, he didn't actually…?"

"Not this time."

He fell silent after that, looking horrified.

It was Toni who spoke up. "I'll end him myself."

Betty shook her head again. "No, T. I reported him to the cops. They'll do their jobs. I really just want to go to bed and forget this happened."

"B," Cheryl began. "Don't you think you should consider talking to Sandra?"

Betty shrugged but didn't acquiesce with a reply. Instead, she simply stood up and headed down the hall to her room, ignoring the voices that called after her. She needed to be alone. She needed time to think. Most importantly, she needed to figure out how she was going to save herself from this never-ending nightmare.

 **Author's note:** He's back. Ugh. Enjoy. Xxx


	10. Chapter 10

Betty didn't sleep that night. She knew that sleep would remain elusive until James was put behind bars. However long that took, was yet to be known. Sighing, she turned onto her side, tucking her hands up underneath her pillow, trying to attain a comfier position to go to sleep in. When, after thirty minutes of futile adjusting, Betty deemed sleep a lost cause and threw back her blankets. She slid her sweater onto her frame, not looking at her mirror in order to avoid seeing the brace her wrist was in.

As Betty made her way down the hallway, she heard hushed voices talking, and slowed her steps. It was definitely Cheryl and Toni, but then, that meant…

"Jughead?" Betty asked in surprise, wondering what the man in question was still doing at Cheryl's apartment at this late hour. "I would've assumed you and Toni would have left by now?"

Jughead shook his head. "We didn't feel comfortable just leaving you and Cheryl here should James come around."

Okay, no. Betty wasn't made of porcelain and she'd be damned if the man she lov-liked, _liked_ , saw her as such.

"While I appreciate the thought, Cheryl and I are fine. It's not my first time dealing with an aggravated James. Surely you understand that?" Betty questioned, quirking an eyebrow. Jughead rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Yeah, see, the thing is, is that it's not that I don't think you're capable of handling him; it's that you shouldn't have to," he said firmly, and who was Betty to argue with that logic? Sighing, she nodded her head, granting him wordless permission to stay.

"Told you she'd see reason," Cheryl piped up, and Betty rolled her eyes.

"Well, carry on. I'm just on my way to make a cup of tea," Betty said, walking into the kitchen. She turned on the stove, setting the kettle onto it to bring the water to a boil. By the time she added her teabag, she was aware of the fact that she had an audience. Taking a sip of her tea, she turned around, cocking her hip against the counter, and looked at Jughead.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's creepy to stare? Not to mention impolite?" Betty teased, smirk quirking her lips upward.

"Ah, must've missed that class in lessons for etiquette one-oh-one," he remarked, and she rolled her eyes fondly, before cutting off the stove and heading back into the living room.

"Where are Cheryl and Toni?" Betty asked upon realizing the two women were gone from the room.

"They said they wanted to give us some space," Jughead said, shrugging a shoulder.

Betty raised her eyebrows. "Which is code for: they want to fuck in Cheryl's room."

Jughead laughed. "Basically."

Betty smiled slightly, happy for her friend. She sat down on the couch, with Jughead sitting a few inches away from her, body angled towards hers'.

"How are you doing?" Jughead asked, and she shrugged a shoulder.

"Fine," she said automatically. Jughead sighed.

"Betty, you don't have to bull shit your way through this conversation with me. Especially with me. It's okay to acknowledge how you're actually feeling," he reminded her.

She sighed, staring unseeingly into her tea for a moment before nodding her head. "I guess I'm just really fucking infuriated."

"About James?" Jughead whispered.

"Him. Life. Every shitty thing that keeps being thrown my way," she huffed out a humorless laugh, hugging her mug to herself with the hopes of trying and stealing some of its warmth.

"Have you…. have you ever thought about maybe talking to someone?" Jughead asked hesitantly, and she could tell he wasn't sure how to ask the question properly. Deciding to spare him the discomfort he undoubtedly felt, she nodded.

"I do speak to someone. Her name is Sandra," she said quietly, fiddling with the handle of her mug.

"And, and you can tell me to mind my own business, but does she help even the slightest bit?" Jughead asked softly. Betty thought about it. Thought about the innumerous amount of hours she spent sitting in her therapist's office, baring her soul to the only person who was paid to give a damn.

She sighed. "Yeah, yeah she does."

"How long have you been seeing her?" Jughead asked curiously, and Betty bit her lip, hesitating. The answer to that particular question had a hundred intricate details woven through it, mapping out the span of her teenage years to early adulthood. Sighing, she looked at him.

"There's so much depth to that question. It couldn't be answered in five minutes," she warned him.

He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, showcasing two tattoo sleeves, before sitting back on the couch.

"I'm all ears."

XXX

"I was raised in what you would call an "All-American, perfect family". There was no room for mistakes," Betty said, eyes on the flickering fire in front of them. "My mother ingrained into me at an early age that anything less than my absolute best would not be tolerated."

"I bet that was hard to deal with," Jughead murmured.

Laughing bitterly, Betty shook her head. "You have no idea."

She took a sip of tea to give herself a moment to gather her thoughts. If she was going to tell him the whole story, she had to tell it right.

"First, I rebelled. It was getting a B+ on a test instead of an A. And damn, did it feel good," Betty said. "But Alice Cooper had her ways of making you pay for your mistakes."

"And, how was that?" Jughead whispered.

"The first time I rebelled was during the summer after eighth grade. My friends wanted me to stay outside longer and I did, ignoring my mother's request to come in on time. I was just a dumb kid," Betty whispered, throat growing tight.

"What happened, Betty? What happened when you went back home?" Jughead murmured, and Betty sighed.

"My mom locked me in my room for three days without food," Betty muttered, and, whether it was of his own accord or not, Jughead reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing gently.

"I'm so sorry, Betty," he whispered.

"I was just a dumb kid. The punishment shouldn't have been that harsh," Betty said tonelessly.

Jughead squeezed her hand again. "No, it shouldn't have."

They fell silent as Betty took another sip of tea before Jughead cleared his throat.

"What else, Betty?" Jughead asked.

Betty sighed. "I was about sixteen. She was trying her damnedest to control every aspect of my life. My sister, Polly, had already moved out by then and my mother needed someone to control. I was the lucky one. Anyways, I was investigating crimes in our town, wondering why the crime rate was simultaneously dropping and rising all at once. She didn't like that. Didn't even give me a warning when she had me institutionalized."

There. She had said it. The one sentence she swore she'd never utter to anyone. The room was so quiet, Betty would be able to hear a pen drop a mile away.

"Your own mother had you institutionalized for investigative journalism?" Jughead asked quietly, and Betty wondered if that was fury she detected in his tone. She nodded her head regardless.

"Yeah. Said I was out of control and disobeying her orders all the time. I needed time to learn my lesson. So, she dropped me off at this place called Sisters of Quiet Mercy and I stayed there for two weeks," Betty murmured, mind eye on the past.

"Did they hurt you at all?" Jughead asked quietly, and this time she definitely didn't have to wonder if that was fury coloring his tone.

She laughed. "It was a home ran by crazed nuns. They weren't known for their pleasantness."

Jughead sighed and she watched as he rubbed a weary hand over his face.

"God, Betty, I'm _sorry_ ," he said. She nodded a little.

"It taught me to toughen up," she said simply.

"How'd you cope with your mother?" Jughead wondered, and Betty's mind flickered to her palms, briefly wondering if she should tell him. She sighed.

"I didn't have the healthiest of coping mechanisms," she admitted, flipping over her palms and exposing them to him. His eyes traced the half-crescent moons littering her marred skin, frown etched across his features.

"Some of these look fresh," he murmured, looking at her worriedly.

"I still don't have the healthiest of coping mechanisms," she amended, shrugging a shoulder. Jughead sighed, clasping her palms together and bringing them to his lips, brushing them across her skin gently.

"Oh, Betts," he murmured, but she shook her head.

"It's okay, Juggie, I'm dealing with it," she said softly. He looked at her palms once more, before tracing a soothing thumb over them.

"We'll bring you back to who you once were. Before the world turned it's shoulder on you," he promised, and that was the permission she was seeking to let herself love him fully.

Instead of saying those three words just yet, she just kissed him gently, before laying her head down on his shoulder. They didn't move until the sunrise.

 **Author's note: Enjoy! Xxx**


	11. Chapter 11

Betty wasn't sure when she fell asleep; all she knew was she was waking up to the smell of coffee and a warm body pressed behind her. Trying to get her bearings back, Betty blinked the sleep out of her eyes, yawned into her elbow, and turned around to spot Jughead sleeping soundly. She smiled softly at the predicament she found herself in. Apparently, they both fell asleep at some point and weren't too perturbed with the fact that it was with one another as sleeping buddies. Just then, she heard soft voices in the kitchen and tilted her head towards them, curious. She began to ease herself out of Jughead's grasp, gently pushing away his arms, but he wrapped them tighter.

"Nope. You're staying right here, baby," he murmured, voice thick with sleep. Betty laughed softly before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Go back to sleep, Jug. I need coffee," she said, noting the way his eyebrows furrowed adorably; the way his lips tugged down into a barely-there pout.

"Alright," he sighed, releasing his grip on her. She shimmied her way out of his grasp and stood up, ready to head into with kitchen, when his humming stopped her. Pausing she looked back at him curiously, only to find him staring at her meaningfully.

"What?" Betty asked quizzically.

He tapped his lips and she got the hint. Rolling her eyes in amusement, she bent down and brushed her lips across his, reveling in the warmth they provide.

"Mm, that's better," he sighed, and she laughed gently.

"Get some more sleep, babe," she murmured, wondering when it became second nature to use pet names. She supposed after baring the darkest parts of herself the night before, they had earned that right. He nodded.

"I'll be in the kitchen shortly," he murmured, eyes slipping closed. She smiled softly before making her way into the kitchen where Cheryl and Toni were. Toni smiled at her.

"Morning Betty," she greeted. Betty grinned back at her before making her way towards the coffee pot.

"Morning Toni – Cheryl. How did you two sleep?" Betty asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Cheryl hummed.

"Oh, you know, just peachy," she replied, smirk quirking her lips upwards. Betty raised an eyebrow, own smirk stretching itself across her lips.

"Peachy, hmm?" Betty asked, and Cheryl rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you're implying, don't," she said, and Betty laughed, Toni joining in as well.

"I'm not implying anything, relax," Betty replied, chuckling. She took a sip of her coffee.

"Speaking of implications," Toni began, and Betty looked at her. "You and Jug sure looked cozy on the couch this morning."

Betty felt her cheeks warm and she averted her eyes, staring into her coffee mug.

"Yeah, well, we stayed up late talking and then fell asleep," she mumbled, hoping they weren't going to press her for more information.

"And the kissing and pet names?" Cheryl quizzed, and Betty sighed. Apparently her wish would not be granted.

"We're figuring things out as we go," came a voice, and Betty turned around to spot Jughead standing in the doorway, smirking at Toni. "Don't you know better than to question things about me when I'm not around, Topaz?"

Toni smirked. "But it's so much fun, Jones."

The two friends laughed as Betty and Cheryl shared a smile with one another. Jughead made his way around Toni, reaching Betty and kissing the side of her head.

"I'm glad I make such an easy target," Jughead replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee as well.

"Ah, Jones, you always have," Toni assured, and Betty chuckled.

Jughead didn't deem that with a response. Instead, he took a sip of coffee and then looked at Betty.

"What are you going to do about James?" Jughead asked quietly and the atmosphere in the room shifted instantaneously. She shrugged.

"Let the police do their jobs," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Betty, sometimes it's easier to deal with your demons on your own," Toni advised, and Betty looked at her, silently asking her to continue.

"It's just, with my exes, I had to work on a way to get myself out of those relationships each time before Jug finally put his foot down and said enough," she explained. "Yeah, it was Jug who secured me a spot in the shelter, but I was the one who had to do the work of not going back to any of my abusers after I was on my own again."

Betty thought over her words, wondering if Toni, (and Jug and Cheryl), thought she'd actually go back to James. She sighed.

"I wouldn't go back to James," she said.

"Betty, I don't think that would be your intentional goal," Toni began. "But it's very easy to forgive an abuser if they say sorry in just the right tone, with just the right gentle caresses to match it."

Betty bit her lip as she thought about what Toni was saying. _Would_ she forgive James if he used the right tone? No, she wouldn't. It was an easy realization. She looked back at Toni.

"T, I won't ever forgive or go back to James," she said firmly. "What he did is inexcusable and I'm tired of patching myself up after every time he's had one too many."

Toni stared at her for a long moment, trying to discern if she was being honest, Betty assumed. After a moment of scrutinizing, Toni nodded her head, seemingly satisfied with her answer.

"Alright," she replied, raising no more objections.

XXX

Jughead somehow convinced Betty to go for a ride with him into the city on his motorcycle. While reluctant still, even she had to admit it was thrilling to see the city from that vantage point. As he drove, Betty kept her arms wrapped around his waist and her chin propped on his shoulder, taking in the larger-than-life skyscrapers that loomed all around them. She wondered if they looked no bigger than ants to the people on the top floors of the highest buildings.

They eventually pulled up to a cemetery and Betty looked around. "What are we doing here, Juggie?"

He took his helmet off and shook out his hair.

"There's someone I need you to meet, Betty," he replied quietly, and she nodded.

"Okay," she said softly. He interlocked their fingers together and began leading her past the many tombstones the cemetery housed. When they had passed numerous rows of tombstones, he tugged on her hand gently, bring her to a stop. She followed his line of sight to see a tombstone with the name Gladys Jones. Breath hitching in her throat, she looked at Jughead.

"Jug, is that your…" she began.

"My mother? Yeah," he murmured, eyes on the tombstone. She automatically started rubbing soothing circles into the back of his palm, letting him set the pace for the painful conversation that was surely coming.

"My dad, FP Jones, wasn't always the nicest of men. He used to be an alcoholic who liked to beat his wife when he deemed it necessary," Jughead began, and Betty listened attentively. "She would try to protect me and my sister from his abuse but eventually it got to be too much and she left, taking my sister with her."

Betty's heart clenched at the fact that she had left her son behind. "What happened to your dad?"

"His drinking progressed and it was soon a common occurrence for him to be blackout drunk. He…he was the leader of this gang," Jughead added, and Betty swallowed down her nerves as she felt Jughead's eyes on her. She kept her face neutral.

"Go on," she encouraged.

He inhaled shakily and continued. "He was prepping me to join when he got arrested for a crime he didn't commit. After that, I joined and it was up to me to run the gang."

"How old were you?" Betty asked quietly.

"Sixteen," Jughead muttered, and Betty closed her eyes.

"You were just a boy," she whispered.

"And, you were just a girl when your mother brought harm upon you," he reminded her, squeezing her hand gently.

"How'd your mother end up passing?" Betty asked gently.

Jughead sighed. "Overdosed on pills."

Betty felt a pang in her heart as she pushed back the moisture in her eyes. "What happened to your sister?"

"JB ended up living in foster care for a few months until I could get out of the gang and become financially stable enough to raise her. I eventually did and she moved in with me when I moved to the city," he explained.

"Does she still live with you?" Betty asked, and he shook his head.

"No, she's in an off-campus apartment while she studies at Columbia."

"What's she getting her degree in?" Betty queried.

Jughead smile. "Psychology. Says she wants to help others the way no one helped us until I was old enough to do something about it."

That warmed Betty's heart. "She seems like a smart kid."

"The smartest," Jughead murmured, eyes still on his mother's tombstone. He sighed.

"My dad cleaned up his act but JB doesn't want anything to do with him, blaming our mother's death on him," he mentioned.

"What about you? Do you hold him responsible?" Betty asked quietly.

Jughead stared at the concrete before him, thinking. He finally spoke. "I don't know. He didn't force my mom to start taking pills like they were candy but he did get aggressive with her after he had been drinking. I can't just forget that."

"I'm sorry," Betty murmured, staring at the tombstone as well.

"I wanted to tell you this so you could get an insight into my life, much in the same way you gave me an insight into yours' last night," he replied.

Betty nodded, swallowing the lump that had risen in the back of her throat discreetly. She felt touched that he trusted her enough to share the most intimate parts of himself with her; much in the same way she trusted him enough to share the most intimate parts of herself with him.

"Thanks for telling me this, Juggie," she whispered, laying her head down on his shoulder. "I know Gladys is proud of the man you've become."

Jughead smiled slightly. "Thanks, Betts."

XXX

Betty and Jughead eventually made their way to the police station to have a catch up with Officer Raegan. Once there, they met the older gentleman outside of his office and he ushered them inside. Looking at Jughead first, Officer Raegan addressed Betty a moment later.

''You're quite sure you're alright with me disclosing information in front of….?" Officer Raegan pressed.

"This is Jughead," Betty filled in the blanks. "And, yes. He's an important person to me and knows everything about James."

Jughead squeezed her hand, silently reminding her that he was there with her and she drew strength from that. "So, what information do you have for us?"

Officer Raegan sighed. "It seems like after the sexual assault attempt, James got spooked and booked it out of the city because we can't find him here or in any other cities in a thirty-mile radius."

Betty felt her heart drop into her stomach.

"How is that possible?" Jughead hissed, and Officer Raegan frowned.

"Trust me when I say this young man: I have taken a personal interest in this case and am ensuring that everything in my power is done to find him," the veteran officer said firmly.

"That's not good enough!" Jughead exclaimed and that broke the paralysis Betty found herself in. Before Officer Raegan could reply or worse, arrest him for talking back, Betty turned to Jughead and cupped his cheek in her hand.

"Jug, it's the best we're going to get right now so let's just let the officers do their jobs, alright?" Betty asked softly, staring at him, trying to calm him with her touch alone. It seemed to work; his agitation lessened at least.

"Alright," Jughead acquiesced. "We do this your way, Officer Raegan."

And Betty knew that was as good as it was going to get for the time being and resigned herself to accepting that.

 **Author's note:** Enjoy. Also, Sisters of Quiet Mercy is not in Riverdale in this story. Betty grew up in a different city while Jughead grew up in Riverdale. Xxx


	12. Chapter 12

**Trigger warning: Kidnapping**

Betty and Jughead walked the remaining blocks from the precinct to Cheryl's apartment which, wasn't surprisingly much, Jughead leaving his bike next to the precinct to go back and pick up later. At some point, Betty grew bold and intertwined their fingers together, smiling up at him slightly when he looked down to their conjoined hands. He returned the smile, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in close to his side. To anyone on the street they would pass as a happy couple. No one would be the wiser to the demons they had to face throughout their lives. And, in all honesty, Betty preferred it that way. She didn't want to be an open book to every stranger she came across.

As they walked, Betty smelt the pizza before her stomach acknowledged it. Then, it did acknowledge the smell wafting down the street and she turned her head to the side, trying to see where it was emanating from.

"The pizzeria down at the end of the street," Jughead whispered in her ear, and she smiled, pleased to realize he had cottoned onto what she was looking for. She squeezed his hand before turning her doe like eyes on him. He chuckled.

"Yes, we can go," he said, and she hummed. "But just know, nothing beats Sweet Pea's."

Betty nodded in quick secession. "Oh, I know. It's just, that's on the other side of the city and I'm already so hungry. I don't know if I can make it."

Jughead laughed as he led her to the pizzeria, opting to buy their slices inside and eat them outside. Betty swooned when Jughead came back with extra cheese.

"You get me," she sighed happily, taking a bite.

"I really do," he chortled, and she smiled softly at him, taking another bite. When she looked back at him, it was to find an amused expression across his face.

"What?" Betty asked curiously.

"You've got some sauce right here," he pointed to his cheek and she mirrored his action, trying to swipe it off.

"No, a little more to the left," he clarified, and her tongue darted out, trying to get rid of the offending sauce. They were both in hysterics by the time her tongue touched the tip of her nose.

"Alright, I got it, Betts," he said, and used his thumb to wipe away the excess sauce. She felt her cheek grow warm from where his thumb had brushed it and she smiled softly at him.

"Thanks, Juggie," she murmured. They stared at each other for a moment, not fighting the inevitable pull they both undoubtedly felt towards one another. It wasn't until a car blared it's horn as it rounded the corner did they break the bubble they were in.

"What the…," Betty murmured, trying to see who had honked. A black van had stopped just mere feet away from them, hitting the engine. Betty and Jughead looked at each other briefly and in that moment, understood each other perfectly. They needed to get the fuck away from that place and fast.

"Run and don't look back, Betts," Jughead said, pushing her in front of him. Betty seized a handful of his shirt and tugged him alongside her; if she was running, so was he. At some point during their run, Betty had dropped her purse, in case that's what the driver wanted but she knew, deep down, it was _her._ It always went back to her.

"Run baby, run," Jughead encouraged her when she got a stitch in her side. She heard fast approaching footsteps and didn't bother to look behind her as she thrusted her elbow backwards, a satisfying crunch telling her she hit her intended target. The curse behind her told her that she had disarmed the person chasing them long enough to gain even more distance. She put one foot in front of the other, tucked her head down, and flew throughout the people on the street. She wondered why no one was stopping to help but she reckoned that they feared for their safety as much as she feared for Jughead and hers'.

Eventually, Betty and Jughead had put enough space between them and the person after them. Glancing around, she realized she couldn't see him anywhere. Inhaling great mouthfuls of air, Betty willed her rapidly beating heart to slow its speed. She needed to remain levelheaded and cool long enough to figure out what to do.

"Betty? Betty? Betts, are you alright?" Jughead's voice sounded far away; as if he was at the end of a very long tunnel. She blinked her eyes in the hopes of making herself less disoriented before looking at him and exhaling shakily.

"Yes," she muttered, praying to God that her heart wasn't about to leap out of her chest. She glanced around them, taking in her surroundings. It looked like they had made it to an alleyway of sorts in the city. She wasn't even sure which street ran perpendicular to the alley, but she knew that wherever they were, their would-be assailant wasn't anywhere near them and that was a gratifying thought for her to have.

"We need to get to the police station. Now," Jughead said, tone leaving no room for argument. Betty certainly didn't want to argue; she was too tired. She simply nodded her head, resigning herself to the face that this was the way their night had turned out.

"Come on, we'll get an Uber," Jughead said, interlocking their fingers. She nodded again and wondered if that was all she knew how to do. She couldn't seem to formulate words, no matter how hard she tried. Was it because she was scared stiff? Or was it because she was angry? Most likely the second one. Betty Cooper didn't do fear.

By the time the Uber showed up, Betty was more put together. She slid into the car, Jughead following suit after a quick glance around the alleyway. Then, with quick instructions to the driver, they were on their way to the precinct.

XXX

An hour later showed Betty and Jughead being dismissed from the interrogation room. Even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong, even though she _knew_ she was the victim, she still found herself being treated indifferently. It grated on her nerves but was nothing compared to Jughead's.

"Are you alright?" Betty ask softly, and he nodded.

"Fine," he muttered. She knew better than to force him to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him, even thought she thought she had a pretty good idea. She was simply the one to wrap her fingers around his, resting her free hand in the crook of his elbow. He looked down at her and smiled softly.

"Let me get you home," he murmured, and she nodded. Home sounded nice. She was tired.

"Alright," she acquiesced.

XXX

By the time they had gotten back to his bike and rode to Cheryl's apartment, Betty was absolutely exhausted. She got off the bike, kissing him gently as she did so.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow, Mr. Jones," she murmured.

"Oh, I suppose we do have work to get back to," he commented, surprise tinting his tone. She laughed.

"We do indeed," she said.

"Well, go on and get inside. I'll wait until the door is shut before I leave," Jughead said, and Betty smiled softly.

"Thanks, Juggie," she murmured. She made her way up to the apartment, turning around briefly to wave at him, before slipping inside. The last thing she heard before the rag covered her face was the sound of his engine roaring down the road. Then, everything went black.

 **Author's note:** Shorter chapter tonight. Enjoy.


	13. Chapter 13

"Betty. Beeeeety. Elizabeth," a voice was pulling Betty back to consciousness the way one would pull someone back to the shore. She wasn't aware who was calling her name, begging her to come back, but she'd be damned if she didn't at least try and open her eyes.

"Come one, sweetheart. Open those pretty eyes for me," the same voice said, and it didn't sound quite right to Betty. When they used the word sweetheart, it sound like it was in the form of leering at her. Perhaps that's what brought her back to consciousness the quickest: the desire to tell who ever dared mock her to fuck off. Eyes opening abruptly, she was met with a sudden harsh light that assaulted her vision. She shut her eyes immediately to protect them.

"That won't do, love," said the same voice, irritation tracing his tone. She felt a hand slapping at her cheek and opened her eyes, ready to yell at the person. Then, she finally got a good look.

"James?" Betty asked, except it came out muffled and she realized there was tape over her mouth. Knots grew exponentially in her stomach.

"Betty, darling, I wouldn't try talking. You don't have that as an option right now," James murmured, and Betty's heart began beating a tattoo against her ribcage. James traced his thumb along the tape, smoothing it down, before his eyes traveled up to hers'.

"Hi, baby. We have so much to catch up on," he said. "But first, I have to go run some errands. Try and be a good girl for me, yeah?"

He kissed her cheek and Betty kicked her leg out, trying to scramble away from him but the pole she was tied to prevented that. Laughing, James stood up and turned around, getting ready to take his leave. As he walked away from her, he paused briefly by her ankle. Betty watched in horror as he smashed down on it with the heel of his boot. She screamed as she felt the bone snap. Soon enough, James sauntered off, the sound of his chilling laughter echoing in her ears.

XXXX

 **Jughead's P.O.V.**

Jughead had barely made it home last night before Cheryl was calling him.

"Jug, tell me Betty is with you," Cheryl had implored and Jughead felt fear swirl up like a tornado inside of his stomach.

"No, Cheryl, she isn't. I just dropped her off at your apartment," came his worried reply.

Looking back on it now, Jughead knew he should have gone inside with her. Something in the pit of his stomach was telling him there was danger. He just chose to foolishly ignore his gut and now Betty may pay a terrible price. As Jughead sped the streets of New York City, racing against the clock to get to Cheryl's, he refused to think that Betty was doing anything less than fighting her hardest. She was a fighter; a survivor. She had survived far worse than James and she'd survive him, too.

By the time he pulled back up to Cheryl's for the third time in less than twenty-four hours, having been at the precinct prior, Jughead was somewhat pleased to see Officer Ragan waiting for him on the steps. He knew the veteran officer had been notified as soon as Betty was reported as missing. Taking off his helmet, Jughead barely spared it a second thought as he tossed it aside and hurried to the officer.

"Anything?" Jughead asked, and Ragan sighed.

"We're still having forensics sweeping for prints. So far, all we got are Betty's," he replied.

"Yeah, because James is not an idiot and fucking _knows_ to not leave fucking prints," Jughead growled, rubbing a weary hand over his face. He was exhausted. He missed Betty; wanted her in his arms, safe and sound. Ragan nodded.

"I know, kid," he replied. Jughead ran his hand through his hair in frustration, needing something to do to occupy himself. He was going stir crazy by just sitting there. Ragan had said no news is good news but that didn't fucking mean anything to Jughead, who knew more than anything that if there was no news, it was because James was still in control of his demented game.

"I know some people," Jughead began, idea formulating. Ragan looked at him curiously, silently asking him to continue.

"I know some people who could help make our search much easier," Jughead continued, and Ragan quirked an eyebrow at him.

"If the next words out of your mouth are, "I'm in the mafia", guess who secured themselves a night in jail?" Ragan replied.

Jughead didn't deem that response worthy of a reply and Ragan had the decency to look contrite. "Sorry. Continue, please."

Jughead nodded, pulling a cigarette out of his jacket pocket. He rarely smoked anymore, only when in times of terrible stress. Which, in his humble opinion, this time constituted as terrible stress. Lighting the cigarette, he offered one to Ragan who accepted it with a word of thanks.

Exhaling, Jughead stared out at the city in front of him. "I know some guys from back when I was in a motorcycle...club."

Ragan looked at him. "Sure you don't mean gang?"

"Does it matter?" Jughead asked levelly, and Ragan studied him for a long moment before shaking his head. "Anyways, this guys from the clu-gang, would be very beneficial in helping find Betty."

"Would their means be legal?" Ragan asked.

"Well, they might be a bit unorthodox but that shouldn't be held against them," Jughead shrugged.

Ragan inhaled a lungful of smoke and held it there for a moment, before exhaling and looking at Jughead.

"And who would be leading this unorthodox gang?" Ragan asked.

Jughead took one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out beneath his shoe.

"Me."

XXX

 **Betty's P.O.V.**

Betty worked hard at loosening the ropes that were cutting into her wrists. She knew if she could just get them to ease up and she could get a bit more circulation, she could focus a bit better. Eventually, with a lot of tearing and tugging, (and clawing into her palms multiple times in frustration), the ropes suddenly gave in and Betty had room to work with. She slid her wrists up and down against the pole, working to slide the last of the rope away and sighed in relief when it finally fell off. Next came taking off the tape.

When Betty was finally free, she glanced around, trying to find a place to hide in by the time James came back so she could take him by surprise. By the looks of it, it seemed like he had brought her to a warehouse. There had to be a weapon of some kind that she could utilize in her ambush. To the right of her there was a door, and to the left, there were stairs. She didn't know how long she had until James came back and with the way her ankle had swelled to twice it's normal size, she knew she wouldn't be able to actually climb the stairs. Door it was.

On her hands and knees, Betty dragged herself across the room, biting back the cries of pain desperately trying to break free every time she moved her ankle the wrong way. Eventually, she got to the door and opened it. _Yes! Yes!_ The first thing her eyes fell on was a crowbar. She knew that'd help her. What it was doing in the warehouse didn't matter; all that mattered was that it was there. She crawled into the closet, curled herself up into a ball and shut the door. And now, all she had to do was wait for James to come back.

 **Author's note:** More of badass Betty to come!


	14. Chapter 14

By the time James returned, Betty was truly hidden well. She knew she had to stay quiet for as long as she could so it would take him awhile to find her but damn, her ankle felt like it was on fire. She tried to take a calming breath to will the nausea she felt to pass faster.

"Betty, sweet girl, where did you go?" James' sinister voice sent chills up her spine and she wondered how she could have ever felt something for him, even in the beginning stages of their relationship. Holding onto the crowbar in her hands impossibly tight, Betty listened intently to his footsteps. He seemed to reach the pole she had been tied to and his guttural laugh sounded more like a snarl than anything else.

"Stupid bitch," he muttered, chuckling darkly. "With that ankle I know you can't have gone far; I'll find you and once I do, you're in a lot of trouble."

Betty tried to stop the shiver of fear that ran through her – she had no reason to be afraid; she was a fucking warrior and had survived the likes of James time and time again. She gripped the crowbar until her knuckles turned white, keeping her breathing as steady as she could. She heard James muttering to himself the closer he got to the closet she was hidden in. Her time to outsmart him was fast approaching. Inhaling deeply, she forced herself to her knees and held the crowbar to the side of her shoulder. To her chagrin, she hadn't been able to hold in a whimper of pain at the feeling that flared up in her ankle and by the sound of his footsteps stopping, she knew James had heard.

"Oh Betty, darling," he tutted. "Hiding in the closet? Whatever am I going to do with you and your sheer idiocy?"

The door swung open and before James had time to do more than register her sitting up on her knees with a crowbar held high, she swung it out and hit him in his knees. He grunted in pain and fell forward. Biting back a snarl when it ignited pain in her ankle, Betty scrambled backwards so he didn't land on her and cause her to lose the upper hand.

"Fuck," James whimpered, and Betty felt adrenalin coursing through her as she hit him on his shoulders with the weapon.

"You should know that it was my sheer idiocy that outsmarted you, _darling_ ," Betty hissed, hitting him once more for good measure. When he was laying on the ground, breathing heavily, she took that as her cue to try and get up. Placing her hand on his shoulder blade, (and relishing in his cry of anguish), she pushed herself up and onto one leg, leaning onto the wall in the tiny closet for support. Once she was balanced, she used the crowbar to smack his hand away when he tried to grab her and hobbled out of the closet. She only had one goal in mind: get to the door.

It was with that thought in mind that she found herself watching as it flung open. Startled, she came to an abrupt halt, holding the crow bar over her head as a defense of sorts. She released a shuddering exhale when it was Jughead she spotted thundering down the stairs. A few men she had never seen before were right behind him and right behind them, was detective Ragan.

"Jug?" Betty asked, relief coloring her tone. He stopped on shaky feet right next to her and cupped her face.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he whispered desperately, and Betty felt that desperation curling in her toes. He kissed her, long and hard, before pulling back and looking at her.

"Are you hurt, baby?" Jughead implored, and she nodded, feeling some of her adrenalin wearing off.

"I think my ankle's broken," she whispered.

"Mother fucker," Jughead fumed. She shrugged.

"It's alright, Jug," she said. He led her to officer Ragan, who wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Get her the fuck out of here while we deal with this piece of trash," he ordered firmly. Ragan hesitated.

"What are you going to do, son? I can't leave if he won't be alive by the time I get back," Ragan said, but Betty shook her head.

"I already took care of him," she assured them softly, and Jughead looked at her in surprise.

Before he could ask what she meant, they heard a low groan, and one of the dark-haired friends of Jughead went to go inspect the source of the noise. A moment later, he was laughing out loud.

"What is it, Fangs?" Came a voice that Betty remembered hearing. Looking up, she spotted Sweet Pea looking curiously at the man he called Fangs.

"Looks like Betty here beat the shit out of him," Fangs chuckled. Sweet Pea looked at the crowbar in her hand.

"Way to go, blondie," he laughed, and Betty smiled shakily.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Jughead kissed her temple, whispering to her that they'd be right outside, then looked towards Ragan who got the hint and nodded.

"Remember Jones, we need to book him so try to leave him in a condition where that's possible and keep yourself out of jail," Ragan reminded him. Jughead nodded, stoic mask in place as he moved over to where James was curled up on the ground.

Ragan began to lead Betty away and with one last look at Jughead and his friends surrounding James, she let herself be pulled to safety.

XXX

By the time Jughead had remerged from the warehouse, his knuckles were bloodied and bruised. Betty, who was sitting in the back of an ambulance, nearly jumped off to go to him. It was only the firm hand of the medic on her shoulder that held her in place.

"You need to stay still, ma'am. Your ankle is shattered," he said, and she nodded, swallowing against the lump in her throat as she thought about how long it'd take to get full function of her ankle again. If she ever did. Jughead reached her a few moments later and cupped her face.

"It's over, sweetheart, it's over," he murmured over and over again, and she managed a nod as she inhaled and exhaled to the best of her capability.

She kissed his chest. "Ride with me to the hospital?"

"As if I'd be anywhere else," he said softly. He hopped into the truck and they were off, Betty finally able to wake up from the nightmare she had been trapped in for so long.

 **Author's note:** To anyone who's still reading this, thank you! Almost over. May post one or two more chapters and then I'll finally, finally, FINALLY have my first bughead story finished. Enjoy. Xxx


	15. Chapter 15

**Epilogue.**

Betty found herself staring out of their apartment window. Not hers'. Not his'. But theirs'. The thought alone left a smile on her face. As she stared out onto the wintry evening, she felt his presence behind her before she heard his voice. Then, she did hear it.

"Hey, you," Jughead murmured, snaking his arms around her waist. She hummed in contentment, nuzzling into his chest.

"Hey, yourself," she whispered, smiling as he dropped a kiss to the crown of her head.

A year into their relationship and he was still as tender as ever.

"We don't have to go tonight if you don't want to," Jughead said, and Betty chuckled.

"Babe, I think it'd be kind of awkward if the author of the book the panel is talking about isn't there," she reminded him.

"Yes, but I know how nervous these events make you; how nervous crowds make you," he replied softly. She turned in his arm, favoring her ankle that hadn't been shattered that awful night.

"And, I love you for it, but as the author, I need to be there," she murmured.

"Have I told you how proud I am of you?" Jughead asked softly.

"Hmm, once or twice, but it's always nice to hear again," she commented, trailing her fingers along his jaw.

"I'm so proud of you, baby. For surviving hell on earth and going on to write about it. For sharing your darkest times with the world. For being _brave_ ," he said passionately, and Betty felt her heart beating pleasantly in her chest.

"I'm so unreservedly in love with you, Jughead Jones," she murmured.

"And, I'm so unreservedly in love with you, Betty Cooper-Jones," he mouthed, stealing a quick but chaste kiss.

They had gotten married just shy of a month ago, and Betty already knew that this would be the only marriage for her. She wouldn't need another husband nor grow tired of their love.

"Come on, babe, we got to go," she murmured, and he nodded, placing his lips against her forehead and holding them there for an immeasurable amount of time. The stillness they found themselves encompassed in was lovely.

XXX

The auditorium she'd be having the panel for her book was already filled with fans. Some were victims of abuse; others were family members of abused ones. One way or another, there was a solidarity in the room. Feeling the butterflies in her stomach grow exponentially, Betty accepted the cane Jughead was handing her. She still wasn't able to walk without an aide thanks to James, who would never see the outside of a cell for the rest of his life. Kissing him briefly, Betty walked out onto the stage when they called her name, smiling and waving at the crowd.

After taking a seat on the chair across from the interviewer, Betty smiled at her.

"Tonight, we are here with Betty Cooper-Jones, the author of _Resilient._ Betty, let's began, shall we?" The interviewer asked, and Betty nodded. She knew they were wanting her to read her opening paragraph in her memoir. Clearing her throat softly, she flipped to the first page and began reading.

" _There once was a little girl who was as resilient as they came. It was this resilience that would allow her to become her own hero, with the help of some friends along the way…"_

 **Fin.**

 **Author's note: THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO STUCK BY THIS STORY! MAD LOVE TO YOU ALL. Done screaming now. On a serious note, thank you! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it and holy heck guys, I finally finished my first bughead story. SO proud about that. I'll update the others soon. I got an idea about a story someone wants me to write and it's intriguing so stick around for that, too. Xxx**


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